


A Knight in Borrowed Armor

by Foxbear



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Nitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-01-08 00:08:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21226520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Foxbear/pseuds/Foxbear
Summary: Over the millennia the powers of Earth have kept many secrets. When one of them appears in Great Britain wearing a very familiar face the Autobots are forced to ask some difficult questions.





	1. Confusion

**Confusion**

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 1**

**A Transformers Prime FanFiction**

Confusion moved around him. The warrior tried to find order, truth in the chaos around him as he slowly came awake. He felt a stab of fear as he realized what that meant. If he was waking, he had slept, he had betrayed his duty. A sentential could not afford to sleep, not when such great danger followed him. He tried to bring the world into focus. Slowly things began to resolve. There were lifeforces burning around him; attentive and concerned. He was among allies then. But why could he not see? He became aware of time trickling by. The lives swirled around him slowly.

He was nameless he suddenly realized. A pang shot through him. His lady was gone. Perhaps it was simply that too much time had passed and she had gone on to her reward in peace; but by violence, illness, or simply the passage of time, he was alone again with only his duty.

Noise. He realized part of the confusion must be noise. Language, someone was speaking. Humans, he had finished the journey then. He was back on the human plane. But the language was confusing. There were hints of the Empire, tastes of the Gaul. When was he?

Suddenly another wave of input fluttered over him. Light. The warrior was seeing now. In the swirling confusion of all the new input he had been ignorant of his own blindness up to this point. Now he stared up at a tall white ceiling. It billowed in a slight wind. Oddly enough he hadn't opened his eyes. Some outside force had preformed that action for him. A woman in a long white overcoat moved out onto a catwalk directly in his line of sight. Compassion and intelligence shone out of eyes set in a dark southern face.

The woman held out a device for him to see, and deliberately pressed a button. Immediately the world went dark. Now that he had seen the light the warrior was able to recognize the darkness. Thinking back he recalled the sensation of his eyes opening. After a bit of struggle he managed to recreate it. He took a few seconds opening and closing his eyes rapidly, surprised at how fast this body reacted.

This body. There was something very odd about it. There were too many senses for one. The nameless warrior closed his eyes and began to sort the sensations. His hearing was sharp; far too acute for a human shell. He experimented a bit focusing in on a distant conversation. He heard the name of his last Lady mentioned and stiffened a bit. The language was still unknown to him but he could hear reverence in the tone. The warrior struggled and searched for some time before he discovered how to draw a breath. It was quite unsatisfactory. It fulfilled no need he could determine and the knight felt a little disappointed. He preferred a shell that drew breath still. Perhaps this shell was simply the best they had to offer. There were fewer and fewer with each passing year. But the air passed through the body's nose and he determined that scent too was greatly expanded. Then there were the other senses; like sight, like hearing able to detect waves passing by. He could feel an uncomfortable bed beneath him and the unfortunately familiar tightness of bonds on his wrists and ankles. He opened his eyes again.

After a few false starts, things within him surged and complained, he felt his fingers twitch. At the movement there was a slight swirl of fear from the gathered humans. The woman on the catwalk leaned over and gave a command. He tried to turn his head but found it restrained with a strap. In a moment he felt a human at each joint busily unclasping his restraints. So they had been for protection and not confinement, he mused, testing the comfort of the restraints and finding it adequate. The warrior looked down at his hand and received a shock. He could have easily picked up the human that stood by him. This body was large then. That would explain why all the humans were quickly moving away from him now that he was free. A few of them had the look of soldiers, but oddly enough the majority appeared to be scholars.

Carefully the nameless warrior stood. He staggered but managed to retain his footing. He stared in bemusement at the large metal feet below him. There was no doubt a very interesting story behind this. He stood to his full height and felt a pang of grief as he looked down on the humans. This body would separate him from them; make it harder to serve them. He dismissed the depressing thought and stretched out with his body and all his senses.

Too late he felt something leave him, a signal of light. He felt a near instant response, words in a language he didn't know, dread, hope. Silently cursing his carelessness the warrior headed for the large door. He had summoned something, and until he was sure that something posed no threat to the humans he couldn't let it find him among them. He stopped at the door and pointed at it. He heard a voice give a command and the door rolled up.

Before it was even fully open he had ducked out and was sprinting across a paved section of ground. This body was easy to get used to. The warrior noticed the buildings, the machines sitting around what was obviously a military base, and made a mental note to admire them properly once he had determined it was safe to do so. He easily leapt over a metal fence and charged off towards a series of low hills. As soon as he was out of sight of the base he sent out the signal again. He felt several responses now, all unintelligible, but equally as urgent. They were seeking him. He felt another presence and this one commanded his full attention. It was dark and grasping. Curiosity and no emotion. The warrior frowned. He was completely unused to this body, fighting would be difficult, especially as there were no lingering instincts in the mind of the shell.

Suddenly the world stretched beside him. The warrior leapt away as a swirling green vortex appeared. He stood tall as two beings in armor stepped out of the mist. One was a soldier in dark green armor. Strength and loyalty radiated from him like warmth from a fire. The other shone with such great light and lifeforce it was difficult for the nameless one to see his red and blue armor. They both had weapons raised but they were held for defense rather than attack. He raised his hands in what he hoped they would take as a placating manner.

The taller red and blue one spoke to him in the strange double language the human's had used. Metal though it was he had the face of a true warrior. There was both hope and wariness in his blue eyes. The nameless one shook his head in confusion, then turned towards the west and pointed with a frown. He felt something from his new senses. The red and blue warrior seemed to be talking with an ally. He appeared to come to a decision. Very deliberately he sheathed his weapons and stepped toward the nameless warrior. He spoke low and quickly resting a hand on the nameless one's shoulder and gestured at the portal. The nameless one nodded and walked into the mist.

As he had surmised it was a bridge of some sort; very clean and efficient, it didn't seem to be attracting any unwanted attention like things of that sort usually did. He felt space slipping away beneath him and stepped out into the cool confines of a cave. Two more of the creatures were waiting for him there. One, a sturdy red and white, immediately began to poke and prod at him in a medical sort of way. The nameless warrior was beginning to get uneasy concerning the source of his current shell. It only grew when a slim blue female approached him.

He knew that look in her blue eyes; desperation. Desperate hope, desperate fear. She had cared deeply for the one whose shell he now inhabited. The female clearly wasn't sure whether or not she was looking at the one she cared for. She reached out and grasped his hands in hers, talking fast and hard. Behind him the nameless warrior heard the first two creatures return through the bridge and it closed behind them, but his eyes were fixed on the female in front of him. A faint shield glittered over her metal skin, preventing him from sensing her life force as he'd been able to do with the others. He sought out the source of the shield and his eyes fell on a young man.

The human stood uncertainly to the side, glancing between the female and the nameless warrior uneasily. The warrior gently extracted his hands from the female's and touched her shoulder with a smile. He stepped around the confused warrior and knelt before the young man. Here was the source of her protection. From the looks of it he was powerful but untrained, perhaps was not even aware of what he was doing. Still he was a sensitive. The nameless one reached out to him. The human visibly reacted but didn't respond in any coherent way, in fact seemed to be trying to ignore him now. The nameless one frowned. There was much going on here he didn't understand.

A woman approached from the depths of the cave, a Lady; pure and powerful, obviously the mother of the sensitive. He turned to her acutely aware that the eyes of every warrior in the place were intently trained on him. They assumed him to be an ally of some sort but would clearly intervene with force were he to endanger either the Lady or her son. This pleased him. For the first time since he had awoken he spoke. His voice was awkward at first but he soon mastered the task of speaking. She was startled and said something to the others before responding.

"Tu quis es?" she asked.

"Ignosce mihi, domina. Ego miles sine nomine. Porto Epistulam ad posteros imperium," he said urgently.

"English loqueris?" she asked, having understood perhaps two thirds of what he had said.

"Hoc nescio loqui Latine lingua est, qua fortasse manuscript Id Linguam? Agitur enim de vita et morte."

She nodded and conferred with the red and blue leader. The nameless one followed the lady to a large machine. The red and white warrior doctor prepared the machine and demonstrated how to use it. He was glaring suspiciously at the nameless warrior now. Had the he not been so very pressed with the urgency of the mission and the growing fears regarding his shell the warrior would have taken more time to wonder at the world of information the machine opened up. But the doctor had prepared the machine to present him with a way to learn this new language. As he had suspected it was a mixture of the Imperial tongue and that of the northern barbarians. Quickly he studied it, and mastered it. This shell was very useful in that way; it retained everything it touched upon.

He turned back to the Lady and bowed deeply.

"Good Lady. I thank you for your assistance. I am in your debt."

"You are welcome," she replied with a pleased smile.

"But now there are things I must attend to." He said gravely.

The warrior turned toward Optimus. He gracefully dropped to his knees and clasped his hands behind his neck, bowing his head before the Autobot leader.

"Noble Warrior," he said, "please accept my most humble surrender."


	2. Confusion

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 2**

**A Transformers Prime FanFiction**

A sleek, midnight blue motorcycle cruised easily along the worn desert asphalt. Arcee couldn't remember feeling this good since...she thought hard as the glittering black road rushed by underneath her wheels, when was the last time she'd enjoyed herself this much? It wasn't as if she never had a chance to just flat out race, but this was different. _Probably the company_, she decided.

Jack Darby let out a shout as they shot over a small burm and went airborne for a few seconds. He crouched into the landing and Arcee put on another burst of speed. Dirt and gravel flew as they left the pavement behind. Every bump and ripple in the old road was magnified at this speed. It took all of Jack's concentration to stay in the saddle. The Cybertronian only slowed when they passed a battered wooden sign declaring all land past it property of Jasper Mine. Arcee skidded to a halt and just sat there a moment letting her circuits cool down. Jack was laughing from the adrenaline rush, from the joy of being alive.

"Well partner, should we head back now?" she asked.

Jack didn't answer immediately. He leaned back in the saddle and removed his helmet. The young man shook out his hair and took a deep breath of the mountain air. The sun glinted off the metallic tattoo that ran down his face and neck. Arcee angled her mirrors to get a better look at them. The name Defensor could be made out before the markings disappeared under his shirt. She felt a warm glow as she mused on how appropriate that was.

"If we go any further Old Man Green will catch us again," he said with a sigh, thinking with a wince of the last time they'd encountered the crusty old security guard. "But I have the day off and you don't have patrol. When the choice is between listening to Ratchet grumbling back at base and more riding…" 

The human looked down at her beseechingly.

"Hey, why do I have to be the one hauling you around all the time?" she asked. 

The blue fem didn't want to return any more than the human did, Ratchet was in one of his moods, a little teasing never hurt though.

"Sure," Jack said, hopping off, "you just climb on my back and I'll carry you around the desert."

Arcee let out a laugh. The joke wasn't that funny. It was joy rather than humor that prompted the rare rolling laughter from the warrior; joy at being alive, at sharing this moment with a friend. She spun out and ran a few tight circles around her partner, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Hey! Stop that," Jack protested laughing and coughing.

To his surprise the Autobot suddenly stopped dead. Her headlights suddenly dimmed then flared. The laughter died in his throat as he watched her in concern. She was trembling now; the delicate mechanisms within her armor vibrating as she strained to hear something far out of his range of perception.

Suddenly she leap to his side and leaned against him without speaking. Jack rested a hand on her frame in reassurance, confused, knowing only that she was seeking comfort.

"Up," she said suddenly.

Jack was back in the saddle instantly.

"Base, Arcee, groundbridge to my location immediately," Arcee called out, her voice taut with emotion.

"Roger that, Arcee," Ratchet's voice came over the connection.

Jack could hear frustration and anger in the medibot's tone. He leaned down and stroked Arcee's side soothingly. Sometimes the best and only comfort he could offer was the human touch. Seconds stretched out painfully as they waited for the bridge in silence.

When the green portal finally appeared Arcee bolted through it. On the other side Bulkhead and Optimus Prime were leaning over Ratchet who was working frantically at the main console. The human leapt off the Autobot as she transformed and joined them. He noted his mom's white sedan in its usual place but he didn't see her. Jack stared intently up at the screen, the scientist was trying to establish a lock on a signal, from the looks of things a signal that had lasted only seconds.

Not wanting to intrude Jack waited in silence and studied the bot's faces. Ratchet wore the look of fierce determination he always did when working on something critical. Optimus, always the hardest to read looked alert and intense. Bulkhead had a look of cautious hope in his optics. Arcee; Jack walked forward and leaned reassuringly against her leg. She looked devastated, terrified. The femme smiled weakly down at him and rested a hand on his head.

Jack's suspicions were confirmed when Ratchet spoke up a minute later.

"It is Cliffjumper's personal signal," he said in a grim tone, "a portion of it at least."

"What do you mean a portion of it?" Arcee demanded.

"It was as if someone tried to send it out," Ratchet explained, "but it got cut off in mid-transmission." 

"Were you able to trace the source?" Optimus asked.

"Partially," the medibot replied. "It originated from this landmass but I can't be any more specific than that." 

Ratchet indicated a glowing spot on the screen.

"England?" Jack said in surprise. "What would Cliffjumper be doing in England?"

"It's _ not_ Cliff," Arcee suddenly snarled. "Cliff died before I met you. That thing could only be some sort of dark energon monster. We need to destroy it."

"Hold on Arcee," Ratchet said. "I'm not reading any sign of Dark energon from the signal location."

"Is it possible that someone just got a'hold of Cliffjumper's codes?" Jack offered. "Maybe M.E.C.H. or the Cons and are using it to bait a trap?"

"Possible but unlikely," Optimus explained. "The signal in question is generated by the specific biorhythm of an individual Cybertronian. To duplicate it is possible, but extremely difficult."

"So the dark stuff has brought him back again?" Bulkhead demanded. "I thought he was at the bottom of the mine when the whole thing blew."

"As did we all," Optimus said grimly.

"Yes," Ratchet muttered, "But, as I said, there was no dark energon signature associated with the signal this time."

"So what does that mean?" Jack asked.

"At this point we can assume nothing," the Prime said firmly. "Ratchet you need to be here to monitor for any further signals. I will contact Agent Fowler about beginning a land search in that area. Jack."

"Yes sir?" Jack said, stiffening to attention. 

"What do you know about the country in question?" Optimus asked, kneeling to face the youth. 

"England?" Jack frowned as he tried to recall the drone of his teacher's voice through the nap induced haze of memory. "Well it's part of the United Kingdom. A constitutional monarchy. But you can get all this information off the net."

"Indeed," Optimus nodded, a smile playing across his optics, "but there are things that your databases will not reveal. Such as, how much attention would our current forms attract if we need to perform an extensive ground search? The island looks well populated. And do you know if Fowler would be in a position to speak for us if we have to break cover?"

"Oh," Jack thought for a moment, "As far as I know that country is this one's closest and oldest ally. If anyone else knows about you they do. Fowler shouldn't have any trouble covering for you. There are physical differences between vehicles here and there, but they are minimal and cars from one side show up on the other often enough that you shouldn't turn too many heads as long as you can tweak your license plates to match."

The Autobots suddenly stiffened.

"Good news," Ratchet said. "Because there's the signal again. Confirmed; it is Cliffjumper's signal, complete this time, and there is no trace of dark energon."

A bright blue dot pulsed in the center of the island.

"Cliff," Arcee whispered, her servos tightening. 

"It appears to be stationary in a relatively unpopulated area," Ratchet continued. "There are no other signals in the immediate area."

"Still, it may be a trap," Optimus said. "Bulkhead, you're with me. Ratchet, keep trying to contact Agent Fowler. If all goes well we will not need his assistance. Arcee," The Prime locked optics with his second in command and spoke firmly. "Remain here and await Bumblebee's return. We may require backup."

Arcee nodded mutely. Jack was surprised to see relief in her optics.

"Autobots, roll out!" Optimus ordered as he led Bulkhead through the bridge.

"Jack," Ratchet looked over his shoulder at the young man. "Please assist your mother in preparing my lab for their return while I work here. She should be in the biological decontamination unit."

"Right!" Jack said. 

He gave Arcee a quick pat on the leg and trotted over to the boxcar tucked in one corner of Ratchet's lab. A middle aged woman stepped out. She wore her dark hair tied back in a ponytail and the arms of her navy blue long-sleeved tee were rolled up to reveal yellow work gloves.

"Mom! Ratchet wants us to prep the lab," Jack called out.

June Darby stiffened as her training turned her from mother to medical professional in a heartbeat and nodded curtly.

"What's going on?" she asked. 

Jack gave her a quick rundown. She listened and headed for the Cybertronian sized berth.

"Jack," she said, "I can handle this myself. Go, stay with Arcee."

"Thanks Mom," Jack said gratefully.

He headed back out to the main silo. The human stopped short of his partner as the ground bridge opened again. Time seemed to dilate again as they waited. Jack realized he was holding his breath.

Steady footsteps sounded as a form materialized out of the groundbridge mist. It was too small to be Bulkhead or Optimus. Jack heard Arcee let out a small sound.

"By the Allspark," murmured Ratchet. "Cliffjumper."

A battered mech strode proudly into the base. As soon as he cleared the bridge Jack felt an odd glow of warmth. It was as if he instantly wanted to trust the stranger. He was about the same size as Bumblebee but a somewhat blockier. Innumerable injuries covered his frame and rusty red armor. One side of his head sported a horn; the one on the other had been broken off. A thick scar ran diagonally across his chestplates from his left shoulder to his right thigh and there was a mass of scar tissue just left of his spark chamber . He paused and looked around the base in confusion, bright gold optics seeming to search for something.

"How is this possible," the medibot muttered. "There is no energon signature?"

Ratchet stalked to his side and began scanning him. The strange mech took the poking and prodding in good humor, although he seemed rather bemused by the process.

"Cliffjumper!" Arcee finally found her voice. She approached the mech hesitantly; as if afraid he would disappear at any moment.

"Is it really you?"she asked. "I tried to come back for you but the mine had collapsed. Cliff?" 

She took his massive hands in hers. The femme's servos appeared small and delicate against his. Arcee searched the mech's face for any sign of recognition.

In turn Cliffjumper's face stared down at her, but not his optics. There was compassion in those gold orbs, and deep wisdom. He gently tightened his hands around hers and gave a comforting smile.

Something within the femme began to die. She barely hear the groundbridge closing on Optimus and Bulkhead. Twice now she had had hope revived after everything seemed lost. Twice now she had been forced to face the death of her partner. Her spark shrank from the truth she saw in those soft optics. She knew, but held on to hope desperately. The warrior couldn't stand to lose him again, wouldn't admit it was a stranger staring down at her.

Suddenly something behind her caught the mech's attention. He smiled and touched her shoulder reassuringly, before stepping around her and kneeling in front of Jack. The human suddenly started. He glanced quickly around the silo as if looking for an escape route.

"Jack," June called out. "What's? Oh."

Everybot turned to look at the woman who had walked out of the lab. The strange mech stared at her intently and walked over to kneel in front of her. Optimus quietly onlined his weapons and prepared to intervene if the mech made any attempt to harm the humans. But the whatever was using Clifjumper's body only let out a few harsh, seemingly experimental, sounds before gaining control of the vocalizer and speaking in a strange language. Optimus quickly searched through what he knew of earth languages and recognized it as a Romance language. June had started at the first words.

"Optimus, he's speaking Latin. Do you understand him?" she asked.

"No, I do not currently have that language uploaded," he admitted. "Do you know the language?"

"Yes," June answered, " well, mostly. His accent is difficult and it's been quite a while since I took that Latin class, but I think I can translate."

"Then by all means," Optimus said, "please."

Jack had moved back to stand beside a shaking Arcee. She calmed a bit when he rested a hand in hers. They watched his mother address the mech.

"Tu quis es?" she asked.

"Ignosce mihi, domina. Ego miles sine nomine. Porto Epistulam ad posteros imperium," he said urgently.

"English loqueris?" she asked, having understood perhaps two thirds of what he had said.

"Hoc nescio loqui Latine lingua est, qua fortasse manuscript Id Linguam? Agitur enim de vita et morte."

"He says he is nameless soldier, and is on a mission of life and death importance for the empire," June finally said.

"Empire?" Optimus asked, arching an optic ridge.

"I would assume the Roman Empire given his language, but that makes no sense," the woman said shaking her head.

"None of this makes any sense," muttered Ratchet.

"He would like access to an English/Latin translation manuscript," June said.

"Ratchet," Optimus nodded towards the secondary console.

The medibot nodded and June and the strange mech followed him to the machine.

"You'd better demonstrate how this works," June pointed out.

Ratchet nodded curtly and proceeded to do so. The mech who appeared to be Cliffjumper stepped up and copied the medibot's movements. He shuttered his optics briefly. When he opened them he turned back towards June Darby and spoke.

"Good Lady." His voice rolled like honey through the silo, "I thank you for your assistance. I am in your debt."

"You are welcome," she replied with a pleased smile.

"But now," his faceplates creased in grim concern, "there are things I must attend to."

The warrior turned toward Optimus. He gracefully dropped to his knees and clasped his hands behind his neck, bowing his head before the Autobot leader.

"Noble Warrior," he said, "please accept my most humble surrender."


	3. Not Him

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 3**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

The Autobots stood in stunned silence. Whatever they had expected, this was not it.

"I am afraid it would be difficult for me to accept your surrender," Optimus finally said, "as we are not to my knowledge enemies, and you have neither attacked nor harmed any of us."

"You are the nearest kin of the one who wore this shell?" the warrior asked in confusion.

Optimus glanced at Mrs. Darby, who only shook her head. Clearly the humans were just as confused by this as the Autobots. The Prime weighed his words carefully.

"This 'shell' as you call it," he said, "belonged to one of my soldier's. Cliffjumper. We were indeed his family. He died in battle several months ago."

"I am sorry for your loss," said Cliffjumper's voice. 

His body turned to Arcee and looked at her, optics glowing with compassion. 

"Clearly you," he said reaching out a hand to her, "were close to the one whose shell I inhabit. Astonishment fills your visage, as does pain. Please forgive me if I have caused this with my sudden appearance. Did you then not give permission for this body to be preserved as a host for me?"

With a snarl of pain Arcee spun around and strode out of the silo. Jack looked up at Optimus and received a nod. The human jogged out after the Autobot. The golden eyed warrior stared after her.

"Maybe you should tell us who, exactly, you are," Ratchet growled.

"As I told your Lady," he answered, "I am currently nameless. If you mean you want to know what I am; I am a warrior of the light, and I pray an honest one. I have never before stolen an unwilling shell. But time and action might speak better for my character than I could."

"Well," Ratchet demanded in irritation, "what _was_ your name then?" 

"I have lost it," the warrior said sadly, "With my previous Lady passed on, I cannot even recall what once I had, and I cannot receive another until I am taken into another Lady's service. Is it necessary for you to have a name to accept my surrender?"

"Again, surrender is the action of an enemy," Optimus patiently explained. "You have yet to prove yourself as such."

The nameless warrior smiled sadly and his helm dropped.

"Indeed," he said softly, "I have fallen in with a noble band. But I am afraid taking the shell of your soldier without your permission is a grievous offense."

"But it seems to me that you didn't know where the body came from," June interrupted. "How is that your fault?"

"Yeah!" Bulkhead piped up. "How'd you get Cliff's frame anyway?"

"The humans are most likely responsible for this," Ratchet growled, "M.E.C.H. or one of their governments. Our allies indeed!"

"Easy old friend," Optimus said soothingly.

The concerned look grew on the strange warrior's face.

"I am afraid I simply awoke in this body," the warrior hesitated. "I have no knowledge of how it was prepared for me."

"Perhaps you should begin from the beginning," Optimus offered.

"Actually it would be best if I contacted my allies," the other responded. "I am afraid I have far more questions than answers about this matter, and it appears the situation is very grave. Do not fear, I place no claim on this shell and will abdicate it immediately if that is your wish. I only ask that you allow me to carry out my final duty and deliver my message."

"Who are your allies?" The Prime asked.

"I am not exactly certain." The warrior admitted. "Much time may have passed. But if you allow me to contact any ranking member of the Imperial government they will know who to approach."

"Wait," June spoke up again. "You spoke of an empire, which empire?"

"The Empire of the Eagle," the warrior replied.

"Hey, isn't your government's symbol thingy, an eagle?" Bulkhead asked eagerly. "Miko was drawing one the other day!"

Optimus raised a hand for silence, indicating they should let Mrs. Darby do the talking.

The woman looked at the strange warrior intently for a moment without speaking.

"You mentioned a lady you served," she said slowly. "What was her name?"

"Boadicea," he answered softly.

The woman nodded again and her eyes grew sharp.

"You told me you," she said carefully, "carried a message of great importance for the empire, but you claim to have served the Iceni queen?"

"Yes. It gives me joy to hear that her name has survived her," the warrior said warmly. "Her husband the king was a subordinate to the Imperial royals. I was supposed to deliver a message to them from the legions stationed near my Lady's lands. But I cannot until some questions are answered."

"I think you should brace yourself warrior," June said softly, "If it was the Boadicea I know of who you served then your message is long overdue."

"Good Lady I am aware that some time must have passed," he responded, "But the message I carry is still dear."

"Warrior," June said in a gentle tone, "Queen Boadicea died nearly two thousand years ago, her lands were halfway around the world from here. The Roman Empire fell a few hundred years after that."

The silo grew quiet. June wasn't quite sure how she had expected the warrior to react but he only looked at her curiously.

"I see, that will make my mission more difficult, but still not impossible. He," he turned to look at Bulkhead, "mentioned that the symbol of your nation is the eagle?"

"Yes, it is," June answered.

"And your tongue," the warrior went on, "is predominantly formed form the speech of the Empire?"

June hesitated. 

"Not exactly," she said. "It is more of the tribes of the north, of Gaul, but it is perhaps half Latin."

"The duty I was given was a grave one Lady." The warrior said. "I cannot speak of it except to a delegated servant of the Empire or one of its descendant nations. By the two clues I mentioned I believe your nation to be one of those. There will be someone among your rulers who will know of what I speak. If not, they will know where I can find one."

The woman looked over to Optimus, a question in her eyes.

"We have already notified Agent Fowler," Optimus informed her, "and he is in route. Ratchet?" 

"ETA thirty minutes," the medic replied curtly.

"Thank you," the nameless one said sincerely.

"Well, no matter who you are, that body was cut in half," Ratchet said examining the seam with a practiced eye. "And it looks to me like it was inexpertly repaired. And I do use the term repaired loosely. Come into my lab and let me get a proper scan of you while we wait."

The warrior looked somewhat apprehensive at this, and glanced at June. She smiled up at him reassuringly.

"Don't worry. Ratchet doesn't bite," she reassured him. "If you'd like I will assist him."

"That would be preferable," he smiled back through the scars marring his faceplate.

The warrior held out a hand to assist Mrs. Darby down the stairs. She accepted the assistance with good grace despite an odd tingle of energy the seemed to flow from her hand to his. She was about to comment on it when the tingle suddenly increased to a surge. She let out a gasp of surprise as her entire body was infused with golden light. The mech staggered, but managed to scoop her up into his hands before she fell. June could hear Optimus calling her name urgently. But for the moment was entirely focused on the pair of glowing gold optics before her.

"Nitor," she stated calmly.

The warrior gently placed her back on her feet and bowed down on one knee.

"My Lady," his voice rang out firm and strong, "I am at your service."


	4. Comfort

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 4**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

"What in the name of the Allspark is going on," Ratchet demanded harshly.

The medibot snatched June up and began to gently examine her. Optimus laid a warning hand on Nitor's shoulder.

"I'm not certain," June said as she blinked back to reality.

"You!" Ratchet demanded, glaring at the warrior. "What was that?"

The battered form opened his mouth as if to speak, only to be cut off by an alarm.

"Fowler," Ratchet muttered.

"Doctor, I'm fine," June said. "You can put me down now."

"Are you certain?" the Autobot asked.

"I'm sure," she reassured him.

Some instinct kept her from elaborating on the sudden connection she felt with the new mech.

The elevator began to rattle its way downward. Fowler stepped through the doors and glanced searchingly around the base. He drew in his breath sharply.

"Prime?" he asked hesitantly, staring at the battered form of the mech he had known as Cliffjumper.

"Agent Fowler," the leader of the Autobots spoke reassuringly. "We require your assistance. This is…"

"Nitor," The mech spoke up. "My name is Nitor."

"Wait just a minute here," Ratchet demanded. "Not five minutes ago you were saying you had no name."

"Five minutes ago I did not," he explained calmly, not taking his eyes off June. "Now I have a name and a Lady again."

The medic deliberately moved to position himself between the woman and the stranger. There was danger in his voice when he spoke.

"And what exactly," he growled out, "do you mean when you say you have a lady?"

Nitor was about to respond when Special Agent Fowler roared out, "Would somebot please explain to me what's going on?"

"You are the representative of the eagle?" The strange mech asked.

"What in Sam Hill are you talking about?" Fowler demanded.

"Special Agent Fowler," Optimus said, "this warrior has requested permission to contact your government."

Fowler stood and listened to the Autobots explain what had happened. His scowl deepened with every passing moment. When they were finished he leaned against the railing, head down thinking hard.

"I have no idea who you would need to speak to," he said finally, "but I might know someone who does. Prime, I'll need access to a secure line."

The Autobot leader nodded and indicated one of the rooms off the main silo.

"The UK huh?" Fowler muttered, to himself as he strode up to the console "so help me if leprechauns start showing up I'm retiring!"

He activated the computer up link and typed out a number by memory. The lines buzzed busily for a few moments until a middle-aged Caucasian male appeared scowling in the screen. Fowler glared back at him. It wasn't that the two men didn't like each other, but the nature of their respective jobs meant they only contacted each other when something was very, very wrong.

"What is it?" Johnson demanded. "I'm busy here."

"I think I have a situation here that's up your ally," Fowler replied. "You ever heard of a knight with no name?"

Johnson stiffened. His hand snapped out and the signal cut out for a moment. Just long enough to snap orders to someone off screen and switch to a more secure line Fowler mused. The screen flared back to life.

"Where is he?" Johnson demanded.

Fowler was far too experienced and professional to be offended by the brusqueness of the FBI agent's tone. It did however worry him. Something _big_ was at stake here.

"He's safe at their base of operations," he responded.

Johnson visibly paled. He muttered something that made Fowler raise his eyebrows.

"One;" Fowler said, "you gotta be over reacting. From what I can see he's getting along fine with the bots. Not at all like that crazy one last time. They're warming up to him pretty fast too. Two; Mammaw would wash your mouth out with lye soap if she heard you talking like that."

The FBI agent let out a sigh and shook his head.

"It's not like last time Eagle," he said. "You're right, there's no reason to suspect their relationship would be anything but cordial. There are other dangers though. Listen, the base is shielded right?"

"The best shielding on the planet," Fowler responded.

"Good, a transport will be arriving within the hour. There will be two people in addition to the pilot on board. They will have proper clearance to interact with your friends. They will explain everything that needs to be explained. Special recognition code?"

"Dam," Fowler responded.

"Understood," the fed on the other end paused and let out a long sigh. "Hey Eagle?"

"What Penguin?" Fowler asked, his level of concern ratcheting up. 

"I want to apologize in advance for all the trouble this is going to cause you." Johnson said in a glum tone, "I can tell you now you won't be able to tell your friends everything. I just hope your relationship is strong enough to handle it."

Fowler stiffened. He could already hear the gag order coming. But he only sighed in return and smiled grimly at the screen.

"Thanks," he said, "I guess it helps that the big guy has a forgiveness bone that would make MLK Jr. proud."

Johnson looked at him a bit enviously before nodding and killing the transmission. Fowler stretched and walked back out into the silo.

O O 

Arcee had left a clear trail in the sand outside the base. Jack ran his eyes over several crisscrossed trails. The Nevada desert preserved such things for a long time. He made a mental note to get out here with rakes and brooms again. Erasing the tracks would leave clear signs that something had happened here, but at least no casual hiker would be able to tell what had been hidden. He followed the newest track to an overhang in the side of the butte. She was sitting on a boulder staring blankly off into the distance. Jack felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw the look in her optics. They were empty.

He walked over and climbed up beside her on the rusty orange rock. His mind was whirling with things to say; empty platitudes and sincere speeches. With a herculean effort he kept his mouth shut. If there was one thing his experience with the bots had taught him, it was the value of silent companionship when a friend was suffering, and Arcee was in pain. They sat in silence, the time gnawing away at the human, his eager young mind darting from one idea to the next. Patience was a hard won virtue.

Finally Arcee let out a long sorrowful sound; something like metal twisted by a gale in the middle of a dark night. She began to murmur in Cybertronian. Jack listened closely wishing he understood more. She was describing Cliffjumper, when she'd first met him. The human caught the words for pride, stupidity, and fast among others. Arcee let out another moan and looked at her partner for the first time. She gave a weak smile.

"I'm sorry Jack," the femme whispered. "Going on like this."

"It's fine Arcee," Jack replied, "Speak as much as you need to."

The Autobot let out a weak laugh and let her helm drop. Jack stood up on the rock, wrapped his arms around her neck and laid his head on her chest plates. It was a stretch for him even slumped as she was. Arcee gently rested her head on his and carefully wrapped one arm around the human. They stayed that way for awhile, until the Cybertronian realized the human was struggling to keep his grip. She leaned back and looked at him with a sad smile. The human was clearly trying not to rub his arms from the strain. She decided it would be best for his pride to not apologize.

"Arcee. Let's go for a ride," Jack suddenly said.

"I don't think…" Arcee was about to protest.

"Look you said yourself. That's not Cliffjumper," Jack continued. "Whoever it is, the others can handle it. We're only a groundbridge away if they need you. Come on."

Arcee looked out over the desert, deep in thought. Suddenly she transformed.

"Get on kid," she said in a wry tone. 

Jack smiled and climbed on. They tore off into the dust.

O O 

Bumblebee rolled into the base and transformed. He had been given strict orders to leave Raf at the human's house and under no circumstances pick up Miko. He looked around frantically. Optimus was standing at the main console monitoring the data feeds. The yellow mech let out a series of chirps. Optimus nodded in the direction of the lab. The scout whistled his thanks and walked eagerly towards the sounds of repair. He felt his spark twist as his optics fell on the scene. Mrs. Darby and Ratchet were working on Cliff's body. One look at the strange mech's face was enough to tell Bee that his friend was on longer inhabiting it.

"This is beyond unacceptable," Ratchet was saying in exasperation. "I don't know what was holding you together. Energon line ruptures in every quadrant of your body. If it wasn't impossible I'd say it was a good thing you didn't have any in your system."

The medibot had the main chest plates open and appeared to be re-welding the massive scar that ran across the red mech. June was working with a line welder. Carefully making repairs to circuitry exposed under lesser panels. She looked up as the young bot came in.

"Bumblebee, come in and meet Nitor," she said with a smile.

The battered mech turned his head to look at the yellow scout and gave a smile of greeting. Bee bit back his anguish and returned the smile.

*Welcome to Autobot base Omega,* he said.

"I am sorry," Nitor responded contritely, "but I cannot understand you."

"He said welcome to the base now stop moving," Ratchet growled.

"Thank you Bumblebee," the red mech said to Bee, after dutifully returning his head to its previous position.

Cliffjumper would have told Ratchet off, Bee thought sadly, and probably jumped across the room to start a wrestling match. He shook his head rapidly and a look of determination fixed on his faceplate. Cliff might be gone, but this new mech seemed nice enough, he had Optimus's approval so there was no reason to make him feel unwelcome.

*Can I help you with Nitor's repairs Ratchet?* he asked over the comm.

"Yes, yes," the medibot responded absently. "We have less than an hour before his contacts show up so you might as well make yourself useful. Get the other line welder and start on the energon lines on his left leg."

Bumblebee gave the prone warrior another warm smile and got to work.


	5. Revelations

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 5**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

*But how did she know his name?* Bumblebee asked over the comm.

*I'm still not certain.* Ratchet replied in a curt tone as he worked. *When I asked him about it Nitor only said that the bond had formed. Whatever that means. Hand me that spanner. June seems as confused as anyone but she accepts him and for some reason doesn't seem to want to question this mysterious bond .*

Bumblebee frowned to himself. Like most humans he had met June Darby was extremely curious about nearly everything. If anything she was more inquisitive than most of her species. For her to show little interest in such a mystery was odd to say the least. On the other hand there was still much he didn't understand about their human friends. The young mech shrugged it off for the moment and focused on performing what simple repairs he could on the injured mystery mech.

O O O 

A sleek jet cruised across the clear desert sky. It was built to balance both speed and comfort; a transport capable of getting someone anywhere in the globe within an hour. The pilot spotted the target site and smoothly shifted into a vertical landing. A dark skinned woman assisted an old man out of the aircraft. The pilot eased himself into a more comfortable position in the cockpit and settled down to wait for orders as the two disappeared into the old missile silo.

Despite Ratchet's protests Nitor was on his feet when the representatives arrived. The warrior stood silently, concern etched across his faceplates. Bumblebee chirped reassuringly at him and rested a hand on his shoulder. The battered mech gave him a warm smile as the elevator slid to a stop, but the worried look never left his optics. Fowler was standing stiffly by Mrs. Darby on the platform to greet the guests. He had wanted her to remain hidden, seeing no reason to reveal everything to the visitors, but Nitor had insisted on her presence. The agent shot a quick glance over at Arcee, who was standing stiffly as far from Cliffjumper's frame as she could be while still obeying Optimus's order to be present. Her presence was another of Nitor's insistences. She had left Jack to supervise Miko and Raf at the Darby's house.

"Welcome to Autobot Base Omega," Optimus Prime said as two humans stepped through the doors.

The two nodded in reply but their attention was clearly fixed on Nitor. The first was a soldier, even if he hadn't been wearing a uniform that much would have been obvious. Grey hair and thin, spotted skin told of old age. Eyes full of fire and determination belied it. The second was a young woman, perhaps thirty-five, Fowler guessed. Long black hair was looped in a loose bun. Her skin was so dark it reflected purple flashes under the powerful base lights. Her face wasn't exactly pretty. It might have been at one time, but a startling scar marred one cheek, twisting the nose slightly to the side. She wore a long sleeved green dress that brushed the floor as she walked, and no makeup, the only ornament she had on was a bulky wedding ring, with a large reddish stone mounted in the center.

"Pass code Hoover," the old soldier snapped at Fowler, who nodded in return.

"Lady Archeota," Nitor stepped forward and bowed at the waist. "I must beg you forgiveness for not recognizing you when I first awoke."

The woman gave a regal nod in return.

"There is no need to apologieze," she replied softly. "I am Laura Herrera of the house of Monk."

The battered mech nodded curtly and lifted his optics to the soldier.

"This is Major General David Trask," the woman said.

The General gave a curt nod. Fowler was straining to hold his tongue by this time. He could sense Mrs. Darby gradually stiffening beside him. The agent, in all his years dealing with the Autobots had never before seen anyone who could ignore Prime. The towering mech automatically drew the attention of every sentient being in the area. But after their initial abrupt greeting these two were doing exactly that. The elderly general at least looked like he was deliberately ignoring the leader of the Autobots. The woman however, didn't seem to realize there was anyone in the room except Nitor.

"General," Nitor politely greeted the old man, then turned to the woman in green. "Lady Archeota," he continued. "The situation I find myself in remains for the most part obscure, but one thing I have been able to determine." He paused and fixed a stern look on the dark skinned woman. "This shell was used to harbor myself without the consent of its previous inhabitant or his family."

The Lady Monk drew a sharp breath and her eyes widened. Her head jerked slightly as if to cast a look at the general but caught herself and regained her composure. The woman was about to speak when Nitor continued.

"I must fulfill my duty," he said. "You well know the cost if I fail, but if this body was deliberately desecrated to house me I will be unable to do anything to avert the coming danger." 

There was pain in his voice, but also steel.

Optimus stepped forward at this point, deep concern etched across his faceplates.

"Nitor," he said, "I do not claim to understand this situation fully, but if there is any threat to human life that you might prevent by the use of Cliffjumper's body, however it was obtained we would do everything within out power to assist you."

Around the base the other bots murmured their agreement.

"It's what Cliff would have wanted," Arcee offered stiffly but sincerely.

The battered red mech stared up at the Autobot Leader with a confused expression.

"Warrior Optimus," he finally replied. "Your spirit is noble indeed, but it is not a matter of permission. If this body was indeed stolen and desecrated I will be unable, not unwilling, to complete-"

"Fowler!" The old general suddenly called out in a powerful voice. "You need to have a talk with Nitor, _now_. You know about what."

The agent nodded and followed the red mech further into the base. Ratchet gave a low growl and glared silently at Optimus, frustrated at the leaders unflappable calm. More secrets, why did his old friend put up with these humans? They had obviously pulled yet another stunt worthy of the Decepticons, Arcee was suffering, and yet the Prime was still trying to give them the benefit of the doubt. Ones like Mrs. Darby were one thing. He glanced at the nurse. She was chatting easily with the woman in green; discussing the trials of raising children. She was a sensible human at least; loyal, honest, useful. The medibot frowned as he thought of this mysterious bond she now supposedly shared with Nitor. He could see no way that situation was good for any of them.

O O O

Agent Fowler walked behind the red mech his mind spinning. He most definitely did not know what he was supposed to speak to Nitor about. Why had the old man been so sure he would? The mech abruptly stopped and turned on the human.

"Why did the General silence me?" he demanded.

The special agent's mind frantically reached down into the swirling mix of sensation that is human memory and seized upon the only other time Fowler had felt this particular mixture of befuddlement and frustration. Optimus and Jack had driven to pick up some sensitive medical supplies needed for the base. Things had gotten crazy. It was in cleaning up the aftermath Fowler had met Johnson. There were still many things he did not understand about the event but…

"What do you know about Voidwalkers?" he asked Nitor.

The battered mech's optic ridges rose in surprise.

"Only that they are the responsibility of humanity alone," he replied. "Why?"

The human stared meaningfully back in the direction of the Cybertronians. Comprehension slowly dawned on Nitor's face plates. Instead of the rage Fowler still half expected despite Johnson's assurances, there was only compassion.

"I see," he said softly. "Yes I understand more now. Thank you. I will speak more cautiously."

"Well, I'm glad you understand," the human muttered following him back out. "That makes one of us."

O O O

"Forgive the interruption," Nitor said calmly upon reentering. "You were about to explain the situation."

The Lady of Monk looked as if she were about to speak but the general laid a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"All in good order girl," he said firmly, "the body came to my attention about two weeks ago. But I am still jumping ahead. For the beginning, how this (Cliffjumper did you say?) passed on, you should ask these."

He indicated the Autobots.

The red mech turned to Optimus with optics full of questions. The Autobot turned to Arcee and nodded. She stepped forward and spoke directly to the humans, still refusing to look at Nitor.

"We'd been on Earth several years by that point," she began. "Cliff and I were scouting for Energon or Decepticon activity when he spotted both. He called for backup but it was too late."

Her head dropped as she remembered finding the broken horn, her optics rose automatically to the jagged wound its removal had left. Optimus smoothly took over the story. He described Megatron returning with the dark Energon, Cliffjumper's life signal reappearing, and discovering the energon mine. As soon as he finished the General spoke up again.

"About six months ago a geological survey team was exploring the remnants of that mine," he said. "It was a group of eager young things, all fresh out of or still in various universities. They had been tracking these strange anomalies, your energon mines, all over the world. In a near collapsed cave they found the main piece of this body," he jerked his head at Nitor, "and nearly had a collective spasm of glee. They knew exactly what they'd found and weren't about to share the discovery with anyone until they could capitalize on it. The searched for weeks until they found the rest of the body, in the process finding dozens of other bits and pieces."

"But Cliff's body was infused with Dark Energon," Bulkhead interrupted. "We can barely contain a zombie like that!"

"Yes," General Trask continued grimly, "exactly. Understand this is a dark section of the story; there is much we simply may never know. From the story the sole survivor gave us and what we could gather from their notes, enough of whatever that stuff was had leaked out of the head compartment that it had ceased to reanimate it but when they reconnected the two parts…"

The Autobots flinched, imagining the carnage a resurrected Cybertronian would do to a bunch of unsuspecting scientists.

"The one scientist who managed to escape," General Trask went on, "sealed the thing in the cave they were working on and called in someone to purify the corpse."

"Wait just a second!" Ratchet snarled, "You have a way to purify Dark energon infected Cybertronians? Why didn't you-"

"Ratchet!" Optimus spoke quietly but firmly and his friend fell silent.

The General continued.

"Once it was clear," he said, "all they had left was an empty husk, but to their surprise a very well preserved one. The remaining scientist had lost interest in the project so he passed it onto some engineering friends of his and moved somewhere far away. We still can't find him. The new group was like the first; young, eager, but out for money and fame as well as scientific clout. They planned to repair the robot as well as they could and then present their findings to the military for a fee. They had access to the resources of several universities and the result is what you see before you." He gestured to the scars running across Nitor.

"That does explain the primitive nature of the repairs," Ratchet muttered.

The old human reached into his pockets and pulled out a handful of jump drives and offered them to Optimus.

"Here is all the data they collected; both the geology team and the engineers. It's not much but it's all there," he said.

The Prime handed the storage devices to Ratchet who immediately began scanning them.

"They managed to keep it secret for several months before one of them got pangs of conscience at keeping a possible threat to his world hidden from the military," Trask said. "He contacted a friend in the army who started rattling the chain of command very carefully. Given the very small number of people who know about you it took quite awhile for news to get to anyone who knew enough to recognize a Cybertronian, namely me. "

He glared around the silo in a silent challenge. 

"I didn't know much," he admitted, "but I knew enough to have been able to contact you. Had the information gotten to me a few hours earlier I would have without hesitation, but another situation had developed. We got a frantic call from our allies across the pond. They needed a functional, well preserved shell to quarter a returning warrior. This body wasn't the perfect vessel for various reasons but it was all we had."

"There were no human shells left from the reserves in Chaldeia?" Nitor asked.

"No," Trask said. "There were none anywhere. They were scarce when you left, and it's been a hundred generation since. The skills to produce more have been lost to us for centuries, and before you ask the barrier was too thick for you to come through any other way."

Nitor was silent a moment.

"That is for the best," he murmured. "We knew from the beginning, my days of crossing the barrier freely were numbered."

"Anyway," Trask continued. "I alerted them I had suitable accommodations for you and arranged to ship the body to the base in England. They took over from there and you woke up."

The general looked straight at Optimus Prime.

"Sir," he said, his spine straightening. "Everyone else involved in this situation can claim complete ignorance. Only I knew of your presence on this planet. Any wrongdoing in this matter starts and ends with me."

Silence fell on the base. The Autobots exchanged glances. They had fought side by side for more years than most nations had existed, and they rarely needed many words to communicate. Optimus nodded to Arcee and the femme stepped forward firmly.

Nitor was still thinking hard. He finally raised his optics to Optimus's.

"The desecration was not preformed or even condoned by the humans," he said, "and they were the ones who cleansed this body. The only sin committed was in not obtaining your permission beforehand. It would appear that the final decision rests in your hands after all."  
The Autobot leader nodded and indicated his second. She had been closest to their comrade.

"Cliff was dead when I saw him last," Arcee said flatly. "Whoever or whatever you are, I can't say I like the thought of you using his body. But given the circumstances, if you had taken the time to ask I can't say for sure we would have given you permission, but Cliff definitely would have."

Optimus stepped forward and placed a hand on Nitor's shoulder.

"Go," he said quietly. "Complete whatever duty you must with our blessing."

Nitor slumped with relief.

"Thank you, warrior Optimus," he said gratefully. "General, do you know the name of the one I need to inform?"

"No, but the Lady here does," the old man grunted.

"Lady Monk?" Nitor asked.

"The nearest Guardian is the commander of the garrison which guards the North Clan Territories," she replied.

Nitor gave a happy smile.

"North Clan," he asked, "we are close then?"

"Yes, but we need not journey at all. This," the woman indicated the communications center, "is capable of carrying your words clear across the ocean to Londinium, true and clear."

"Very well," he glanced at Ratchet who nodded and pulled up the comm. screen. "But it would still be better to contact the Guardian in North Clan. They will be best prepared to handle the danger."

"Hey," Bulkhead spoke up, "We want in on this too you know."

Nitor looked at him in confusion.

"We all have human friends here." Bulkhead went on. "If anything happened to Miko I'd never be able to live with myself. Just point me in the direction of who I need ta pound and they'll wish they never heard of Earth!" 

The green mech punched his fists together for emphasis.

A fierce grin lit up the red mech's faceplate and a hearty laugh erupted out of his vocals.

"Well said soldier!" he exclaimed. "You do your fathers proud. But while I cannot reveal to any but the Guardians what the danger is exactly I must tell you this much; it is not the type which may be defeated by strength of arms. No, this is a task for scholars and priests. My own roll will end once the message is delivered."

Ratchet looked about to say something but a gesture from Optimus silenced him. The medibot shrugged and activated the console. General Trask gave him the number for the commander of the military base in question and Optimus herded his soldiers out into the Nevada desert. They transformed and parked along the edge of the highway.

"Optimus!" Ratchet growled, about to begin on what was bound to be a loud and violent protest.

"Peace old friend," the Prime said softly. "There is far more going on here than meets the eye. I have had access to a bit more information than Trask knows, or is even aware of himself most likely. While the humans are not telling us everything; I believe they are doing their best to balance conflicting priorities. Do you remember Sualocin Tertie?"

Silence fell over the assembled bots.

"Arcee, Bumblebee, Bulkhead," Optimus finally called out. "Go to your charges. They will most likely be very worried. I would suggest taking them somewhere pleasant to take their minds off the situation. Ratchet and I will remain here to monitor the situation."

"You sure you won't need us?" Bulkhead asked.

"Enjoy your day off Bulkhead," Optimus said firmly.

The three Autobots acknowledged his order and rolled out towards Jasper.

"I don't like this Optimus," Ratchet growled.

The leader of the Autobots sat silently staring off into the distance. This planet was full of mysteries, and he was beginning to fear that their presence here was causing far more problems for the humans than even the Decepticons could bring to bear.


	6. Communication

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 6**

**Communication**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

Optimus Prime roared into the silo at full speed and transformed, dropping down into a crouch with weapons drawn, Ratchet right behind him. Nitor was on his knees, bent nearly to the floor clutching at his throat. Smoke billowed from the secondary communication panel. Fowler was talking excitedly with the general while Mrs. Darby and the Lady Monk stood by the red mech. June was examining Nitor's vocal processor which seemed to be sparking.

Optimus slowly stood and powered down his weapons. Ratchet strode over to the injured warrior and began scanning him. The Prime walked over to the console and silenced the alert that had summoned them into the base. For some unknown reason the fire suppression system had not activated. He triggered it manually and the compressed gas rolled out onto the sparking metal. Cold discomfot crawled up his legs with the fog but his internal sensors showed no danger of damage to Cybertronian systems.

"Optimus," Ratchet called in a curt tone, "Nitor will be fine. I'm taking him to the medibay. How's the computer?"

"There appears to have been a massive power surge," Optimus replied scanning the data avaliable. "The main system is malfunctioning mildly as well but is primarily undamaged. The surge looks to have originated from the console itself."

"Human technology," the medic muttered in frustration as he examined the battered mech's vocalizer.

"Prime," Fowler called, "we were in the middle of a call when the comm. went crazy. If it was just a power surge we need to reestablish contact so the poor guy doesn't blow a gasket trying to send in reinforcements. We should be able to contact him from the jet."

"Very well," Optimus replied and the two soldiers headed topside.

The fire was quickly contained and the Autobot leader began to run a diagnostic. There had been minor power surges through the entire system, but as he had expected they all originated from the communications console. He was not the mechanic that Ratchet was but he had a solid understanding of data systems. It had been, he was relieved to note, strictly an internal matter. Something had caused the audio receptors to overload resulting in a cascade effect spreading through the system.

Ratchet came out of the medibay frowning. Optimus felt another wave of relief. That was the expression his old friend reserved strictly for scientific mystery. 

"June is repairing Nitor's vocalizer." Ratchet informed Optimus absently as he brushed him away from the computer. "It was only a few blown circuits."

"As was this," the Prime indicated the scorched equipment, gladly surrendering his position to the medic.

"Hmmm," Ratchet examined the computer thoughtfully.

"Prime," Fowler called out as he reentered the silo with the general. "We made contact successfully."

"Good," Optimus replied. 

He turned to Nitor who was walking out of the medibay.

"Are you well?" he asked.

"I believe so," the red mech replied, "but there appears to be a problem. I am incapable of speaking the necessary language with this body."

"What?" Ratchet demanded jerking his head up.

"It would be difficult, if not impossible;" Nitor explained, "to render the information I need to in one of the base languages. This English is a tongue of merchants and wholly inadequate to the task. When I tried to speak the mother tongue-"

Nitor indicated the blackened computer and his throat.

"You are witness to the results." He said.

Ratchet narrowed his optics.

"And what," Ratchet demanded, "makes you think it was an inability to handle your language that caused the problem in the first place?"

"The device appeared to be functioning properly," Nitor responded. "Right up until I began to speak in the mother language. I managed to get out a few sentences, when not only the device began to flame, but this voice began to fail painfully. Given that time is so short I'd rather not test my theory further."

The medic was still skeptical but gave way before the other's logic.

"What about one of the clan languages?" the general asked.

Nitor paused and his faceplates grew thoughtful as he mused over the suggestion.

"That would be acceptable," he said out loud, "But I would still need to contact the Guardian face to face to avoid another incident."

Fowler looked at Optimus who nodded.

"Ratchet prepare a groundbridge," he said.

The medic nodded mutely and complied. Fowler stepped up and gave him the coordinates.

"You should be able to transform now," Ratchet said curtly to Nitor.

"Transform?" Nitor asked, with a confused look on his faceplates.

"Yes." Ratched declared in a gruff tone. "You didn't think you were going to go walking around outside like that did you?" 

"No, I suspect not," Nitor murmured. "Perhaps if you could trigger this, transformation, once I cold copy it, but I am afraid I'm at a loss."

The medic left the computer repairs and led the other mech back into the lab.

*Optimus,* Arcee's signal came over the comm. *How's it going?*

*We have run into some difficulty that has resulted in Nitor needing to personally deliver the message.* Optimus informed her. *Fowler will escort him to the necessary meeting and then back to base.*

*Okay,* she replied. *The kids are getting curious. How much should I tell them? Miko's about to strangle Jack.*

*I think it would be best to let Mrs. Darby handle informing the children,* Optimus decided after some thought.

*Understood, Arcee…Miko! Stop that!* the signal suddenly cut out and Optimus gave a small smile.

In the medibay Ratchet had attached an uplink cable to the base of Nitor's helm.

"All right," the medibot said, "I should be able to stimulate the transformation process with this. I warn you though, it will be painful. The repairs I've completed so far will hold, but quite frankly I can't even understand how you are alive without a drop of energon in you. I have no idea how it will affect your ability to change modes."

"Understood," Nitor said in a calm tone.

The Autobot triggered the device and Nitor's mesh began to shift. In seconds a rusty red muscle car was sitting on the floor of the lab.

"And I simply reverse the process to return to my previous form?" the mech asked.

"Precisely," Ratchet responded.

After a few false starts Nitor succeeded in regaining his bipedal form. Ratchet and June took a moment to check the recent welds and found them satisfactory. The battered red mech returned to his alt mode.

"My Lady." He said. "I would appreciate it if you and the Lady Archeota would wait here for my return."

"Well I'm not going anywhere for awhile," Mrs. Darby said with a smile.

"Very well, " Nitor said. "I am ready to depart."

He rolled out of the lab behind Ratchet.

"Lady Monk?" June turned toward the other woman. "May I ask you a question?"

"Of course," the woman replied, "and please calls my Laura."

"Then I'm June," she responded. "What exactly is with all your titles?"

"Oh," the dark skinned woman gave a small laugh. "Herrera is my married name. Monk is the name of my husband's house. Archeota is just a job title."

"It means record keeper, doesn't it?" June asked.

"Yes," she said, "it was the duty of the line of Monk to remember the task that had been assigned to Nitor, and be here to assist him when he reappeared." 

The woman held up the dusky red stone one her finger. 

"This is our symbol." She said. 

June nodded, and the two women began to chat. In the silo Ratchet was running one last check over Nitor's welds. 

"I am ready to depart," Nitor announced.

The Autobot leader nodded. Agent Fowler and General Trask climbed into the red muscle car and Ratchet triggered the groundbridge.

"Remember Fowler," Optimus instructed the human, "summon backup immediately if the Decepticons make an appearance." 

"You bet Prime." Fowler said with a bark of laughter. "I'm not interested if facing Screamer alone again." 

The muscle car rolled out through the pulsating green portal.

"Ratchet, what is the location of the coordinates?" Optimus asked.

"Just north of the Ft. Wainwright Army base in Alaska," the medic replied.

"I see," the Prime said softly.

Ratchet could sense that his friend was deep in thought. The medic allowed himself to relax a bit. Optimus wasn't just going to let this all slide.

"Nurse Darby," he called, "I'd like to go over the data I received from General Trask with you. I have some questions about the notations."

O O O

"Com'n!" Miko whined. "You gotta tell me what's going on!" 

Miko clung determinedly to Jack's neck where he was trying to work.

"Pretty please!" she crooned. 

"Miko stop that!" Arcee snapped, snatching up the girl and gently attempting to pry her off Jack.

They were in a massive old warehouse on the outskirts of Jasper. It had been used to store surplus military equipment during the Second World War and was still officially a government structure. Fowler had suggested it as a place for the children to hang out with the bots outside of the base and had cleared all the necessary paperwork. Dusty golden light filtered through old windows and fell on tarp covered piles. Bulkhead and Bumblebee were sitting on old storage tanks watching in amusement while the cyclebot tried unsuccessfully to separate the two humans. Raf perched on Bumblebee's shoulder glancing nervously between the two females.

"Miko I am serious. Let go of him," the femme growled.

"No! Not until I get some answers!" the girl responded defiantly, pink hair bobbing in the soft sunlight.

"Gack! Miko please, breathing!" Jack finally managed to gasp out.

The slim Asian girl let out a final growl before surrendering her grip. Jack staggered back towards a half refurbished motorcycle. Arcee stood and handed the girl over to Bulkhead.

"Look, I explained before," the femme said irritably, "some government humans are coming to the base and they don't need to know about you. So, Optimus has ordered you kept away for now."

"Yeah, and it's not so bad. We can hang out here instead," Bulkhead offered. "I mean what could we do at the base that we can't do here?"

Bumblebee made a face and chirped at Raf who let out a laugh.

"Bee's right!" the smallest human declared, "At least here we don't have to listen to Ratchet complain about our noise."

"True that," the girl muttered. "But what do we do? All our video games are back at base. I'm so bored!"

"You could help me and Arcee with the bike," Jack offered gesturing at the vintage cycle they'd discovered in the warehouse and were restoring.

Miko wrinkled her nose and pouted.

"Ugh," she said disdainfully. "Get my hands all oily and scratched up? No thank you!"

"Um, Bee and Bulkhead could link their comm. systems so we could game together," Raf offered.

"Boring!" the girl threw herself back onto a canvas covered pile and started coughing as a cloud of dust billowed up.

Arcee shuttered her optics for a moment and rubbed her forehead. It was going to be a long few hours.


	7. Duty

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 7**

**Duty**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

Fowler shifted a bit uncomfortably in the passenger seat of the red muscle car. He had gotten used to riding around in Optimus, telling himself it was no different than getting a piggy back ride from his Dad when he was a kid. Being carried around by what was essentially a zombie car was different however. Something was making him nervous. The airman had long ago learned to listen to his gut. He cast his senses about trying to detect the source of his worry. It was too quiet, he finally decided. Every other time he'd been in an Autobot there had been something; a pulse that surged below the sound of the engine. There was nothing like that now; only a silence that was a constant reminder that the Cybertronian that had been was dead.

"You've been awfully quiet young man," General Trask finally said.

The special agent let out a short bark of laughter. Trask looked over at him and arched an eyebrow. Fowler shook his head.

"Sorry Sir," He said. "It's just been awhile since anyone has called me that."

The older man let out a laugh of his own.

"Son," he said ruefully. "I was with the fleet that stormed the beaches at Iwo Jima on D-day. Anyone who wasn't there with me counts as a young man these day, and those grow fewer with every winter. You; you're still young enough to be after that Darby filly."

"What!" Fowler jumped in the seat slamming his knee into the underside of the dash. "I have no idea what-"

"Oh don't bother denying it," Trask said with a laugh, his weather worn face crinkling into a thousand laugh lines. "A blind man could see the way you look at her."

"She's an amazingly brave woman who is dealing with a massive load," Fowler said stiffly massaging his leg. "I admire her greatly. She's not the kind of woman you call a filly!"

"I'm sure you do, and I meant no disrespect soldier," the old man suppressed a grin.

"Humph," Fowler turned to the gold lights on the cracked dash, "Nitor, how long until we get where we're going?"

"Soon, I'd expect," the voice stated sedately.

"What's that supposed to mean?" the agent demanded.

"Well, I have the directions Ratchet gave me, and I do not imagine he would drop us far from our target," the muscle car explained.

"Why don't you just use your GPS?" Fowler demanded.

"My what?" Nitor asked in confusion.

"Don't worry Fowler," Trask sighed, "I know my way around this place. We're about five minutes from the base."

"Good," Fowler said.

Moments later they pulled up to a small guard house. They were waved through a chain link fence by an alert young soldier. Tucked away in the trees was an old log barn. Nitor pulled through the doors and let his two occupants out. The red car transformed and faced the soldier standing in front of an old horse stall.

"You are the warrior of the light?" the middle aged man asked. 

His cameos blended in well with the graying wood. Blue eyes sparkled out of a somewhat round face, topped with a thatch of graying hair that somehow managed to be unruly despite being regulation length.

"I am Nitor," the mech said with a nod.

"Well," the soldier stepped forward eyeing the warrior, "this isn't exactly what I was expecting."

"Are you prepared to receive the message?" the general asked urgently.

"No," the man shook his head as if to clear it.

"What? Why?" demanded the old man. "You are Colonel Jonsen aren't you? Commander of this garrison?"

"Yes I am," the colonel explained with a smile. "But given the, ah, situation, it was decided to bring in an expert in case the messenger had any more trouble."

"Who?" Fowler asked in frustration. 

Too many people had interacted with the bots already today. Now they were bringing in another without consulting him.

"She's known as the facilitator around these parts," Colonel Jonsen said. "Nitor here was supposed to have known her predecessor quite well."

"What?" demanded the general, "two thousand years ago?"

"It's a very long lineage," the colonel said with a shrug and a smile.

Nitor was frowning. The general, long used to hurry up and wait settled down on a bale of hay. Fowler began to pace. Suddenly there was a rattling from the other end of the barn. A weather warped man door was forced open and a young woman staggered into the dim interior squinting.

"Hey Jonsen? You here?" she demanded.

The colonel went over to meet her. Fowler stood and studied her. As far as he could see there was nothing remarkable about the woman. She had the kind of face that might have been anywhere from eighteen to thirty, dark hair, and worn blue jeans, a jean over shirt, and a blue bandana. Dried dirt splattered her legs and sleeves. She was the kind of girl who belonged in a barn, the kind of woman who owned a barn. The agent reminded himself not to judge too quickly, if the garrison commander had summoned her it was likely she served some needed function.

"And these are Special Agent William Fowler and Major General David Trask," Colonel Jonsen was explaining.

"General Trask, Agent Fowler," she nodded politely to each of them, but her attention was clearly on Nitor.

Fowler frowned and was about to speak when the old general nudged him and shook his head. The special agent sighed and settled down onto a crate.

"Nitor," she said with a smile, "I am of Bear Tribe, of the Clan. Do you know who I am?"

"I cannot say that I do exactly," he replied contritely.

"There is little surprise in that," the woman said ruefully, looking him up and down. "Forced into that shell as you are I'm surprised your senses work at all. Anyway, I'm the current representative for all of North Clan."

Nitor's optics suddenly flared a brilliant gold. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head.

"Princess!" he exclaimed. "Forgive me."

"Ugh!" the woman threw her pony tail over one shoulder and frowned up at the kneeling mech. "Only if you promise to _never_ do that again."

The red mech stood and looked at her in confusion.

"I serve the Clan just the same as the garbage barge pilots," she explained. "I am not by any definition royalty."

Nitor smiled warmly at the woman.

"Facilitator, then," he offered.

"That's what they say," she agreed. "Now someone said something about getting a message to the brass."

Colonel Jonsen stepped forward.

"You are aware of Nitor's mission?" he asked her.

"Nope, not really," she replied.

"There was a swarm of the dark loving ones attacking my former Lady's lands," the mech spoke up. "A hole in the barrier had been torn for them to come out of. I drew their attention and led them back into it, for such creatures are easily distracted, but I could not hold their attention forever. They have coursed after me in endless chase these long centuries. But now their attention had turned back to my her lands. I know the paths they will take to burst out of the barrier. This is the intelligence I carry."

The woman nodded.

"I see that you must render this in the mother tongue," she said seriously. "But there are others under the command of the colonel here who could take dictation for you. What do you need me for? And wouldn't one of the Clan tongues be as acceptable, and easier?"

Nitor looked at Colonel Jonsen curiously.

"That body belongs to void walkers and it can't take the mother tongue in its current state," he said, "and while we are considering using a Clan tongue we hope you can fix him up enough to deliver the goods properly."

The woman stiffened and her eyes widened.

"Void walkers?" she demanded sharply. "Here, on Earth?"

"You didn't know?" the colonel asked in surprise.

"That really doesn't matter at this point," she said sighing and shaking her head. "I'm here to help now, give me a minute. Nitor, sit."

She strode up to the mech and placed her hand in his. Her eyes closed and she took a deep breath. Without opening her eyes the woman began to move her hands up his arms and onto his chestplates, finally coming to a stop over the empty spark chamber. She hummed a bit and tilted her head to one side.

"Okay, here's the scoop," the woman finally said. "This body wasn't prepared properly for you so you don't fit in exactly. I think if I sync your energy with the type of life force this shell is supposed to hold the language won't be an issue. Oh, and Colonel?" She looked straight at the soldier. "Spread the word to all concerned, nonliving machines and the mother tongue _do not mix_. Boom happens, the scientists figured that out years ago but it seems to have been forgotten. I'm guessing Nitor here has already seen the results."

"I'll make a note of that," he promised.

"Good Lady," Nitor spoke up. "Is it really necessary to synchronize my life force to this shell? I will no doubt be returning it to its family as soon as my mission is complete."

"Not to worry, my honorable friend," she replied, unbraiding her long hair. "The process will make it easier to remove you once the task is complete."

Fowler blinked. Hadn't her hair been much shorter moments ago? And in a pony tail?

"As you say let it be," Nitor was saying.

"Good now hold still, this won't hurt much," she flashed a grin up at Nitor. 

She placed her hands, wrists crossed, over his spark chamber. The air around them became charged with power. For the briefest of moments Fowler could have sworn her closed eyes glowed Autobot blue. Nitor went rigid for a moment, the sound of snapping welds filled the barn. Then soft gold light began to glow from every seam. His spark chamber opened and the woman reached her hands in and gently cupped them around a faint spark. The speck grew in intensity until it filled the chamber with swirling light. Then it solidified down into a burning golden ember that just fit into her palms.

Nitor let out a soft sigh of relief. The woman gently guided his spark chamber closed. She began to run her hands over his scars. Each in turn glowed gold where she touched it then faded. Finally the woman leaned back and examined her handy work.

"I have done all I can," she announced. "Speak Nitor, warrior of the light, complete your long deferred duty, and know you have done it well."

Special Agent William Fowler had seen a lot of odd things in his time. But as he sat blinking into the setting sun, he mused it would be hard to top the events of this day. Nitor drove along easily toward the groundbridge coordinates, chatting with the general. It seemed that once his duty was done it occupied none of the mech's mind. The agent let out a sigh and shook his head. This was going to be a fun report to write up.


	8. Surprise Attack

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 8**

**Surprise Attack**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

"Here I stand to release this body to its rightful caretakers," Nitor bowed deeply before Optimus Prime as they stood in the center of the silo.

The Autobots ringed the two mechs, each quietly standing with their own thoughts. The four adult humans waited on the platform.

"Why?" Optimus finally asked.

Nitor looked up in surprise, glancing around the assembled sapients.

"I assume you have customs regarding the internment of honored friend?" The battered red mech asked. "It would be unjust to deny you the peace of following these."

"We indeed have such traditions," the Prime said. "However none of us would deny your right to existence. I would do a far greater honor to our fallen friend to grant you the continued use of his shell."

"Oh," sudden understanding lit up Nitor's face plates. "Forgive me for not explaining this properly. If it is my continued existence you are worried about there is nothing to fear."

He saw the looks of confusion ripple across the room.

"My kind, my people, do not exist in solid forms as do yours," he waved a hand to include the humans as well as the Cybertronians. "I live as what you know as light; a sunbeam in a forest, a glimmer in the clouds at sunset. For me to return across the barrier required an," he hesitated searching for the proper word, "anchor of sorts. That was the main reason I needed a shell. The only other reason is that it is extremely difficult to communicate with the humans in my," he hesitated again, "natural form. Now that my duty is complete there is no reason for me to stay confined to this shell."

"Ah, maybe we should leave while you discus this," offered the Lady Monk, feeling that she was intruding on something.

"That will not be necessary," Optimus said gently.

The Prime opened a channel between the Autobots and began to exchange data. Even by Cybertronian standards it was a short conversation. They were unanimous in their decision. Communicating this way only seconds passed. Optimus turned again to the red mech.

"We are all of the same mind in this matter Nitor," he began. "The best way to honor our fallen comrade will be to extend the use of his shell to you," he paused, "if that is your wish. We will not ask you to stay if you wish to be free from this physical form."

Nitor shuttered his optics rapidly a few time as he thought over the Prime's speech.

"It is always easier to serve them if one has a solid body," he finally said. "I gratefully accept this gift, however,"

"What?" the lady Monk suddenly shouted, capturing the attention of the room. "Who would attack, never mind commander, evacuate now. There is no reason to defend an empty hanger," she said firmly into her phone. "Someone is attacking the base where we summoned Nitor," she explained to the concerned faces around her, "with an airstrike. The commander is evacuating but a group of scientists has been trapped in the main building."

"Cons!" Fowler exclaimed, leaping to the consol. "They must have heard the signals the new guy sent out and traced it to that location somehow."

"That signal was a broad spectrum call sign," Ratchet spoke up. "It may well be that we have more to worry about than just the Decepticons."

"Maybe MECH then," Fowler growled. "Or Screamer. We have way too many bad guys." He pulled up a report and frowned. "Nope, it's cons. International contacts confirm it. Optimus I'm pulling up the schematics for the base now."

"The scientists are there," the Lady pointed to a central building.

"Autobots! Prepare to transform and roll out!" Optimus ordered. "Nitor remain here with Ratchet."

"This is not one of the usual top secret facilities," the general spoke up. "You should be able to access the base layout fairly easily."

"Optimus Prime," the red mech protested, "I am a warrior, and there are people in danger because of my actions. I need to assist you."

The leader of the Autobots looked at the other silently for the briefest of moments. Suddenly his hand snapped out and caught the smaller mech under the chin. Nitor staggered back and fell onto his skid plate at the blow.

"You said yourself this body is strange to you," the Prime said, reaching out to help the red mech up. "That blow was by no means swift for the manner of combat we will be involved in."

Nitor nodded glumly.

"As you say. I will wait here, until such a time as I can master this shell."

The Autobots leapt into the ground bridge and transformed. The green portal flashed out of existence behind them.

"God speed," General Trask said softly. The man turned to Agent Fowler and let out a sigh. "As much as I would love to see how this turns out I'm afraid my duty is done and this is none of my business from here on out. Lady Monk shall we take our leave?"

"I think it would be best if I stayed for a bit longer," the dark skinned woman said softly. She gave Mrs. Darby a warm smile. "June has accepted Nitor's bond but she knows next to nothing about the responsibility's that entails. I will summon a ride when I need one."

"So you will stay and brief her, good." The general nodded and headed for the elevator without further comment.

"I need to get my reports into HQ and organize the cover story for this," Fowler sighed as he followed the older man through the doors. "Call me if you need anything he said to the women.

The two men rode the elevator in silence to the top of the shaft. Just as they parted ways to go to their separate aircraft the general flashed a mischievous grin at Fowler.

"She looks back you know."

"What?" the agent sputtered.

"An old man sees things," Trask shrugged. "It's your life but any soldier would be a fool not to Capri Diem with an opportunity like that."

The younger man gaped at the general for a moment. The old man laughed loudly and strode whistling to the jet. Fowler finally took a deep breath and shook his head.

"Rank has its privileges," he muttered as he headed to his waiting chopper. Like not being told off when you were acting like a complete…

Optimus exploded out onto the green landscape surrounding a small military base. The banner flying on the flag pole had the same coloration as the ones in the country which housed them but the geometric pattern was different. His attention was initially drawn to the flag because it was the only thing moving.

"Fan out," the Prime ordered, "This looks far too much like a trap. Bulkhead, free the scientists and give them a ride to the tunnels. Arcee, Bumblebee, scout."

Each Autobot fell to their assigned task instantly. The green mech transformed and rolled up to the building that protected the scientists. It was sunk into the ground and consisted of several layers of concrete and steel. It would have been fairly easy for the Decepticons to destroy it but not without killing the human inhabitants. They must have wanted them alive. The doors were protected by a manual lock that could only be opened from the inside. The Autobot would have smiled to himself if he'd had a face at the moment. The cons must have been stymied by the sheer simplicity of the set up.

Bulkhead positioned himself so there was as small a space as possible between the shelter's door and his. He sent the code the general had given them. The door began to open almost immediately. A thin middle aged man poked his head out of the window. Round, wire rimmed glasses sat atop a thin nose.

"Hello? Who's there? Are you here to rescue us?" he asked nervously, glancing at the seemingly empty SUV.

"Please enter the remote controlled drone," Bulkhead said according to his instructions. He tried to suppress the laughter in his voice. Miko would love this.

The scientist glanced around quickly and signaled the others behind him. Nine similar humans scampered out and toward the waiting rig. Just as the last one left the building the cons attacked. Two air drones came in fast and hard but not firing weapons, clearly intent on taking prisoners. A blur of yellow appeared and fired off twin cannons. Bumblebee's shots didn't stop the onrushing drones but it did knock them off course. Arcee and Bee began engaging the drones.

Bulkhead replayed the message for the humans hoping it would hurry them along. The scientists appeared to have frozen in terror. The thin nosed man with glasses suddenly started and began herding the rest of the group into the waiting transport. The Autobot wasn't exactly sure how many humans his alt mod was rated for, but with the threat of the combating robots raining around them all nine squeezed into his interior in what must have been record time.

The green SUV shot off toward the mouth of the escape tunnels. To one side he caught a glimpse of Optimus bringing his sword down on Soundwave. In another Arcee and Bee were back to back thrashing the rest of the drones. Bulkhead tried to ignore the odd prodding from his interior caused by the tightly packed humans. He screeched to a stop in front of the entrance to the tunnels.

"Thank you for riding Save My Tail airlines ladies and gents!" He called out cheerfully. "Please disembark on the side away from the big booms and have a pleasant trip through the escape tunnels!"

The door to the tunnels opened and two humans in what Bulkhead recognized as combat gear popped their heads out.

"Get in here," one shouted to the struggling scientists. The two young men leapt forward and began bodily pulling the white coated figures out of the SUV.

"Down the tunnel. Go, go ,go!" The soldiers shouted. Once the door closed behind the last human Bulkhead roared off to join the fight. He arrived just in time to see Soundwave take off leaking energon and Arcee drive her wrist blade into the last standing drone.

"Awe, how come you didn't leave any for me?" he asked cheerfully.

"Finish the evac a little faster next time and maybe we will," the fembot retorted with a smirk.

"Autobots," Optimus's baritone rang out, "Our task here is done. Fowler has informed me the cleanup crew is on the way."

"Roger that Bossbot," Bulkhead responded.


	9. Change

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 9**

**Change**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfic**

"You must stay here until you learn to properly manage this body," Lady Monk was instructing the battered red mech.

"Lady, every minute I remain here increases the danger to them," Nitor protested.

They were in the base laboratory. June Darby was working on the many repairs the mech still required while Ratchet monitored the progress of the rest of team Prime. The nurse was listening carefully to the conversation as per the Laura's instructions but she felt every bit as bewildered as before.

"True as that may be, you would be a far greater danger to them on your own and untrained," countered the woman. "If the others find you out they will not rest until they discover the source of your shell. If that happens…" 

She trailed off meaningfully.

"If that happens; the human death toll will be catastrophic," Nitor finished grimly, "and the Cybertronians would be slain to a bot."

The mech winced as the wrench June was wielding dropped from her hands. The woman gaped at Nitor in shock. She knew, he was telling the truth. She wasn't certain how, but she knew. She hastily apologized and scooped up the tool. It was the strange sensations she was experiencing that were unsettling her as much as the words. She had never been the kind that followed, or even had sudden leaps of intuition. But ever since the bond had formed with Nitor they had been coming fast ans frequently. What disturbed her most was that she wasn't questioning them. The warrior seemed to sense her inner turmoil. He reached over gently and rested a hand on her back.

"My Lady," he said in a low voice. "There is much we must speak of and soon. But not in this place."

She nodded and took a breath. The logical part of her brain was screaming at her to pull her guard up; to not place so much trust in the comparative stranger. She looked up into the golden optics, and for the first time in many years felt completely safe.

"Nurse Darby!" Ratchet's voice cut through the sudden silence; solid and familiar.

"Ratchet!" she responded.

"Prepare the mesh patch kit and one point five cubes of emergency energon," the medibot instructed curtly without turning from this station.

June nodded and gave Nitor one quick pat of reassurance before heading for the storage area. Relief was sitting easily on her shoulders. Such a small order meant only minor injuries. The bots would all come back through the bridge, one at a time they would submit to Ratchet's tender mercies, and then Optimus would finally sit down and allow the medic to tend to him.

She gathered the necessary items and brought them back to the medibay. Nitor was standing easily beside the examination table speaking softly with the Lady Monk. Laura, June corrected herself. It just felt wrong somehow to call the dignified woman by her first name, despite her request.

Bumblebee strode into the room chirping happily when his optics fell on Mrs. Darby. He gave her a quick thumbs up sign; their personal signal that Ratchet had given the youngest bot permission to have the woman tend to his injuries. He knelt down so she could run the scanner over him. As usual, the yellow scout had a variety of minor abrasions, mostly confined to his arms and legs. June chatted softly at him as she cleaned the area and applied the artimesh. Even though they both knew she couldn't understand his replies the mech whistled back cheerfully. Neither Bulkhead nor Arcee had any injuries worth repairing and Optimus too had escaped damage.

Once he was certain that all of his team was safe Optimus returned to the matter of Nitor. June noticed that the warrior seemed to have accepted that he would be staying with the Autobots for the foreseeable future. Optimus was immediately welcoming. Bumblebee had immediately warmed up to the newcomer. Bulkhead was slightly more cautious. Ratchet was still stiff and a bit harsh with the red mech. The woman smiled to herself as she watched him growling over the welding. Like most old doctors he didn't react well to things he didn't understand and couldn't control.

Still the old mech dove into the task of repairing the injured warrior. Hours passed as he and Nurse Darby replaced burst lines, repaired damaged joints, and welded brittle mesh. At one point the medic let out a snarl of frustration and slammed a fist into his other palm.

"This is impossible!" Ratchet exclaimed.

"What is it old friend?" Optimus asked in concern.

"There isn't a drop of energon in this chassis, but it is functioning as if there is," the medic growled. "I know for a fact that he hasn't received a joule of fresh energy since he arrived here but his systems continue to act as if he's receiving a steady supply."

Nitor blinked in surprise and opened his mouth as if to speak. The Lady Monk shot him a sharp look. The mech hesitated, but continued.

"I know you have little reason to place faith in me after so short a time together," he began seriously. "In the days which will follow I can only hope to earn such a trust so that you will be content with my word that there is neither dishonor nor danger in the source of my life."

Optimus considered this for a moment.

"As you say," the Autobot finally replied, "such trust will take time to build. Meanwhile we must discuss you training."

"Ah, ah, ah!" Ratchet interjected. "After we're done with him."

"Indeed," the Prime said with a suppressed smile. No matter his personal feelings on the matter the medic always put the needs of his patients first.

Once the amber and white medibot grudgingly released the mech Bumblebee immediately offered to begin coaching Nitor in melee tactics. An offer the warrior gladly accepted. However before they started he went off in search of the blue female who had seemed so affected by his appearance. The red mech found Arcee at the cave entrance, pacing irritably.

"So, have you decided to stay?" she asked curtly when she saw him.

"For the time being," he replied, "until I can master this body."

"Why are you in such a hurry to leave?" the cyclebot asked archly.

Nitor didn't answer at first. He stared into the distance as if the stone walls were transparent.

"Life is a winding journey," he finally said, "In my life span I have served in many ways; most recently as a warrior. To defend my lady from her enemies was my duty then. Now my path is less clear, and yet one's duty is always there if only you search for it. For now my duty calls me to serve here. Soon, perhaps very soon it will call me away. As much respect I have for what you are doing; I do not believe that it is the creator's will for me to assist you in defending the humans in this way."

"You do realize what will happen if Megatron has his way?" Arcee asked, annoyed at his seemingly casual dismissal of their war.

"He will enslave the humans," Nitor replied calmly.

"And that isn't a problem big enough to require you attention?" the blue femebot demanded.

"To be enslaved," the mech said calmly, "there is no shame in that. There is always someone in the universe stronger than you. Humanity knows this and they are prepared."

"Prepared to be enslaved?" the Autobots repeated incredulously.

"Yes," the mech replied. He hesitated, unsure how much he dared tell this one. "They have done it one to another many times. Believe me when I tell you that the greater danger to self lies in wait for the so called master. Humans make dangerous slaves. They will only bide their time until the soul of the conqueror had withered to the point that they may crush it."

"You would allow the suffering, the death, that the conquest of this world to happen all around you without doing a thing to prevent it?" she hissed at him. 

There was a fury building to a head inside Arcee. The rage at Cliff's death came sweeping back. How dare this coward lay claim to his body?

"We may be strangers to this planet, but Jack, his mother, _all_ the humans are under our protection now," she shoved the mech against the wall. "We won't let anything happen to them. If you are too frightened to be a part of that; fine, run. But don't get in our way."

She didn't know what response she expected from the mech; maybe he would fight back or try to defend his courage. The blue Autobot was completely unprepared for the look of gentle compassion that shined down on her upturned faceplates. All the wisdom of the Primes seemed to be looking down at her. The seconds stretched past and he didn't speak. Arcee began to shake. She knew she was losing control; in front of a stranger no less and she hated it. But under that kind gaze she felt all her rigid discipline melt away and the cyclebot let herself lean into the comforting warmth of his chest plates. Nitor slipped his arms around her and held the trembling warrior until her shaking stopped.

"I am sorry," he said softly.

"For what?" Arcee asked, not lifting her head.

"That my appearance causes you such pain," he said. 

The Autobot didn't respond to this. There was nothing she could think of to say. Finally she pulled away embarrassed by her lack of control.

"Your current form," the red mech said thoughtfully, reaching out to gently stroke her helm spike.

Arcee flinched slightly at the too intimate touch and made a mental note to have Optimus speak to the mech about personal space.

"What about it?" she asked.

"You are imitating the form of one of the machines of this planet, are you not?" He asked. 

"Yes," Arcee replied, "a motorcycle."

"But you are not of this planet?" he pressed. 

"No," Arcee said, unsure where he was going but glad to take the conversation in any other dirrection, "we're from a world called Cybertron, far from here."

"So you changed your outer appearance in order to blend in here?" he asked, "and Cliffjumper did this as well?"

"Yes," Arcee replied, a bit confused but reminded herself that the things she took for granted were completely unknown to this mech.

"Could I do this a second time?" he asked.

"I don't see why not," she replied. "If the doctor says you're fully repaired you should be able to scan any vehicle on the planet."

The red mech looked at her seriously.

"Would it be easier for you if I were to change forms thus?" he asked. 

Arcee stiffened. Her mind raced through a dozen possible answers. Finally she nodded her head.

"Yes," she whispered.

"Then let it be done," Nitor said firmly. 

He turned and headed back into the base.

June glanced up from gathering up her things as the sound of Cybertronian footsteps filled the silo.

"Lady Darby," Nitor's strong voice rang out, "I require the use of your car."

"My car?" the woman asked in surprise glancing inquiringly at Laura, who only shrugged.

"Yes," he said. "I wish to exchange this form for that of your vehicle."

"Why do you want to do that?" Ratchet demanded. "Cliffjumper's old alt mode is perfectly serviceable."

"There are several reasons," the red mech said truthfully. "But most pertinent to the situation, I wish to be less conspicuous. This bright red form is; how did Agent Fowler put it? 'An eye catching hotrod'. It is my desire to blend in with the current population and I strongly suspect that Lady Darby's white vehicle is a more common and sensible 'ride'."

Optimus saw the grateful look in Arcee's optics and divined another reason for the red mech's sudden determination.

"Well, if you have the energy it should be easy to download the proper programming into your CPU," the medibot mused. "But as for the color I will have to give you an entirely new paint job. We can begin immediately as we should really do that first." He would never admit it but the doctor was as disturbed as anybot to see his old comrade walking around again, knowing it wasn't truly him. He ran a scan beam over the white sedan and saved that data.

"There, I'll download it to you once you're ready," he said to Nitor.

"Well, you mechs have fun," Mrs. Darby called from the car in question. "Laura and I are headed over to my place. We'll be explaining this all to the children when we get there."

"Who will be protecting you?" Nitor inquired worriedly.

"I am usually the closest because I'm Jack's guardian," Arcee offered, "but we all keep an optic on June."

"I see," the red mech murmured, but there was still a worried look in his optics as the two women pulled out of the silo.

"Don't worry," Ratchet said, "No one will be getting hurt with Arcee on the job."

* * *

"Ow! That hurt." Jack exclaimed rubbing his arm. "Hey Arcee, aren't you supposed to be my guardian?"

"Sorry partner," the cyclebot said with a grin leaning back against a support beam in the old warehouse. "There are some things you just have to handle on your own. She's one of them."

The 'she' in question was readying a handy stick of wood for another swing at the young man.

"There was something cooler than a zombie bot in the base and you didn't tell me?" Miko demanded.

Jack dodged and caught the thin plank in one hand.

"Hey," he protested, "I was under orders!"

"Miko!" the tone of Mrs. Darby's voice stopped the girl while she was trying to wrench the stick away from Jack. "There is such a thing as personal privacy. What was going on was none of your business. Now please stop assaulting my son and load up."

"Ick! Non-transforming car," Miko glared at the white sedan. "Where's Bulk?"

"He's on a scouting mission," Arcee offered, "and before you ask no you may not ride with Jack."

"Why not?" Miko whined as Raf scrambled into the back seat and began chatting with the interesting woman who had arrived at the warehouse with Mrs. Darby.

Arcee only glared at the girl.

"Oh yeah, 'the Incident'," Miko muttered rubbing one elbow as she glanced away.

Jack may have forgiven her but his guardian had forbidden her from bumming rides for the foreseeable future. Meekly she climbed into the white, depressingly non-transforming car.


	10. Practice

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 10**

**Practice**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

"So you really are royalty?" Rafael asked eagerly of the dark skinned woman sitting across the table in the Darby's dining room.

The lady Monk smiled at the eager boy, his brown eyes sparkling with fascination.

"The man I married belongs to the gentry class," she explained with a smile.

The discussion was interrupted by a metallic crash from the kitchen.

"Nobody's bleeding!" Miko's voice called out cheerfully.

Jack looked up uneasily from his homework in the direction of the kitchen. The pencil in his hand twitched slightly. Raf smiled at his friend's reaction. Miko had the ability to get a rise out almost anyone, even of the usually collected Jack. But the soothing voice of Mrs. Darby followed as the woman instructed the girl in cleaning up the mess and the older boy visibly relaxed.

"So I guess I should be getting home," Raf said as Miko carried the remains of a mug out to the garage. "Mom's sister is coming out for a visit and we're having a big dinner tonight."

"Do you need a ride home?" Mrs. Darby asked.

"No, I can walk," the boy assured her. "It's not far."

June shot Jack a meaningful look. The older boy nodded and slipped his notebook into his backpack.

"I'll come with you Raf," he called cheerfully. "I need some fresh air after being cooped up in the warehouse all day."

"Hey wait for me!" Miko called out. 

She had not caught Mrs. Darby's silent order but the prospect of being left alone with both of the dignified women did not appeal to her. The three children set off towards the other end of Jasper. The setting sun seemed to stir the drifting dust clouds around them. A close observer might have noticed a trim woman on a blue motorcycle following them as they walked. Back in the house June came out of the kitchen carrying two cups of tea. Laura smiled as she accepted one.

"Now that we are alone I imagine you have many questions," she addressed June.

"Yes for starters what exactly is this bond?" the nurse asked.

"Short answer, I don't know; no one does," she raised a hand to ward off the frustrated response she saw in the other woman's eyes. "But the long answer is that this bond that forms between Nitor's kind and their particular human has been studied for many years. As you well know it does exist. But the best scientific minds have yet to find a way to measure it in any way."

Laura took a sip of her tea before continuing.

"It is not telepathy, or empathy," she said. "Other than that moment when the bond first forms and the Lady officially recognizes the name of her servant there is no sign of any mind to mind connection. If the term mind can be used at all, except in rare cases like Nitor's his kind only exist as a form of light, with no solid three dimensional form at all."

"Wait, back up, servant?" June asked her brow furrowing.

"Yes; their terminology for the relationship, not ours," Laura said with a smile. "But it would probably be best if he explained that aspect of his people to you himself."

"His people," June said. "What can you tell me about them?"

"Not much scientifically I'm afraid," Laura said. "Apparently they don't reproduce. Their memory fades out about three thousand years ago. But it always has, it seems that is all the time they can hold. No one quite knows how many of them there are and they don't care."

"For such a mysterious people you seem to know a lot about them," the nurse noted.

Laura smiled and took another sip of tea.

"You've probably noticed I don't have much of an accent?" she asked.

"I had wondered about that," June admitted.

"My parents were both British citizens," Laura explained, "but they were scientists first, and more than a little obsessed with 'extra physical beings', EPB for short, as they called them. They traveled the world over searching for information on Nitor's kind. When I came along they just took me along for the ride. My earliest memories are of fiddling with sensor equipment and trekking out to remote Siberian villages. Somewhere along the line I gained the ability to absorb nearly any English based accent after only a few moments of conversation. I've been told I have the same ability to a lesser degree in the other languages I speak."

"So," June asked, "that's how you became involved with Nitor?"

"Sort of," Laura responded. "When I was sixteen we were home for a brief period researching the last known sighting of an EPB in the UK. I met a fascinating man. The Lord of Monk. We seemed to run into him randomly wherever we were. After a few weeks he admitted he'd been stalking us. His house had been charged with preserving the memory of Nitor's mission. He wanted to be sure my parents were worthy before letting them in on the secret."

The woman gave a soft smile. It seemed to transform her face, for a moment she was beautiful.

"You fell in love," June said softly.

"Oh madly," Laura replied with a laugh. "For the first time in my life here was a modern, well educated man who didn't look at my family and call the asylum. Well it turned out he was fairly smitten with me. I was all for eloping at once but he was a tradition bound old dear." 

The woman gave her head a quick shake.

"But you don't want to hear that old story. Suffice it to say I inherited an officially dead title and the task of record keeper." She held up her bulky ring with its lined red stone. "Sardonyx, the mark of the Archeota. Do you have any more questions?"

"So, do leprechauns exist?" June asked jokingly.

"Of course," Laura replied as if it was a simple matter of fact, "but what does that have to do with anything?"

The nurse sat there blinking for a moment. She decided to let the matter drop for the moment.

"So why does this have to be kept a secret from the Autobots?" June asked. "Another species native to Earth wouldn't change anything for them."

Laura let out a tired smile. She stood and stretched leisurely. The setting sun seemed to glow off her green dress capturing June's attention. The woman moved around to stand behind Junes chair and picked up a hairbrush that had been lying nearby and began to gently run it through the nurse's hair. June found herself relaxing into the strokes.

"Dear sweet June. Nurse, mother, and friend," her voice was soft and soothing. "I have told you what you needed to know. I will answer any questions you ask. These memories are yours now and not even old age can steal them away from you."

Laura's voice deepened as she spoke and the last dying sparks of the day seemed to catch at her finger tips as she stroked the brush through June's hair.

"But we have a duty to this world," she murmured. "There are others here. Nitor is kindness and compassion. The others do not accept so easily. They are jealous and easily angered. We promised them that we would not allow our share of this world to be taken by those who walk across the starry void. Were the other's to discover we harbor Optimus Prime and his team. It would not go well for them, or us."

Now in complete darkness, June had completely surrendered to the rhythm of the brush. She sat perfectly relaxed.

"This is a part of our promise," the Lady Monk was almost chanting now; weaving braids into June's hair. "Their existence shall never be made know by our lips. Nitor was discovered incidentally, but the Void Walkers must learn no more from us. So I bind you to silence sister."

With a final twist the Lady Monk snapped the simple braid pattern into place with a bone hair pin. June blinked a few times and turned to smile up at the other woman.

"What were we talking about?" she asked.

"Nitor, and how important it is for him to only stay as long as is necessary with the Autobots," Laura provided.

"Yes," June said, that felt about right. "Here let me turn on the lights."

*** 

"Lift your fists up. Keep your elbows in." Bulkhead instructed the white mech as he faced Bumblebee.

Nitor nodded and shot out a quick flurry of punches. The yellow scout had some trouble dodging them. He smiled to himself as he danced back away from his student. He was learning fast. A paint job and a download from Ratchet hadn't changed the mech's appearance greatly, but it was enough so that he wasn't a walking reminder of their lost friend. Most significantly he had lost the horn. Too aggressive he had said. The scout chirped encouragingly as he circled Nitor. Suddenly the practice room doors slid open.

"Nitor, Bumblebee, Bulkhead," Optimus greeted them each in turn.

"Optimus Prime," Nitor responded, standing straight.

Bumblebee divined the Prime's intentions and stepped willingly aside. The tall red and blue mech stepped lightly forward and transformed his arm into a blade. Nitor took up a closed guard position and the Autobot leader nodded in approval. The white mech clearly understood combat in a bipedal form. Optimus brought his blade down in a wide arc, which the smaller mech easily deflected. Nitor responded with an uppercut. The two sparred for several minutes until the Prime called a halt to the exercise.

"Your skill at hand-to-hand combat is clearly adequate," the Prime said. "We will now move on to energy weapons. This may be more difficult as they are powered by energon."

Nitor nodded. It indeed took several attempts for him to even summon the triple guns to hand. Once he had mastered that the white mech attempted firing a few short blasts at a set of targets Bulkhead had set up. This process too took several attempts. When he finally did manage to get a few shots the targets jumped and sprouted several new holes.

"Did you see anything?" Bulkhead asked Optimus.

"I did not see any discharge," the Prime responded, "but the results are impressive."

"Yeah," the green mech said. "You know this has got to be driving Ratchet bonkers. Not being able to put him under the scope like he wants to."

Their discussion was interrupted by the sound of the white mech crashing to the floor. Optimus was at his side instantly.

"Ratchet you are needed in the firing range," the Prime called over the comm. system.

Nitor staggered back to his peds groggily.

"What happened?" Bulkhead demanded.

Bumblebee chirped in concern from the other side of the down mech. Nitor shuttered his golden optics a few times and shook his helm.

"I am not certain," the white mech said, "but if I were to hazard a guess I'd say I am simply too weak to expend that much energy just yet."

Ratchet burst into the room and immediately began running scans. He ordered Optimus to assist Nitor to the medibay and shooed away the other two mechs.

"Your hovering will do him no good," he growled.

His scans had confirmed Nitor's suspicions. The Cybertronian frame was reacting as if it was too low on energy to sustain combat.

"You need more of whatever energy source you use, and soon," Ratchet said gruffly.

"Thank you for your diagnosis Doctor," Nitor replied. "Until I can obtain some perhaps it would be best if I simply rested."

"You do that," the medibot said curtly.

The white mech transformed and rolled over to a quiet corner of the silo. Ratchet frowned thoughtfully as he left.

"Optimus let's go for a drive," he suddenly said.

The Prime nodded in consent and the two mechs transformed and headed out into the desert night.

*You are concerned old friend,* the Prime said as they rolled around.

"Concerned? Of course I'm concerned, and mad as the Pit!* Ratchet's fury vibrated over the comm. *If these humans had the ability to purify a Cybertronian body tainted by Dark Energon then why did they hide it? That general using Cliff body as if he had any right. And why didn't the humans tell us there were other sentient species on the planet?*

*It occurs to me that we thought of Dark Energon as little more than a myth not too long ago,* the Prime began, *and yet, despite our ignorance, we found a way to handle the effect very quickly. But our ignorance is still greater than our knowledge.*

The medic gave a frustrated growl.

*Very well, I see you point. The humans may have been just reacting to something new they didn't understand,* Ratchet admitted grudgingly. *And we couldn't expect them to connect that foul substance with us. And maybe that general was only looking out for the best interest of his people.*

Optimus would have smiled slightly to himself as they drove along, the medic providing answers for all of his own questions. Sometimes the older bot just needed to vent.

*Ratchet, there is one thing I think you need to be aware of; something that may explain Nitor's reluctance to stay with us,* the Prime finally spoke up. *I have no proof, only a few observations I have had a chance to make, but I suspect that there are several different kinds of sentient species native to this planet. Nitor's people are only; the tip of the iceberg, as the humans say.*

Ratchet mulled this over.

*So should we attempt to contact these others?* he asked.

*I believe that would be highly inadvisable,* the Prime said gravely. *From the observations I was able to make the others are aware of the possibility of extraterrestrial existence but want nothing to do with us. They seem to have delegated the task of dealing with anything that comes from space to the humas.*

*Let me guess, this delegation included a bit about keeping their existence a secret?* Ratchet guessed, Fowler's behavior suddenly making more sense.

*That was the impression I received,* Optimus confirmed. *Also it seemed that if these others became aware of either us or the Decepticons there would be severe consequences for humanity.*

*So they're not allowed to tell us about them or them about us?" Ratchet asked, "but they have to deal with both groups simultaneously? No wonder they act so crazy sometimes.*

*This is all speculation on my part, remember,* Optimus cautioned the medic.

*Yes but it makes a twisted kind of sense,* Ratchet said.

*** 

"I'm sure he didn't mean that Arcee," Jack was saying soothingly as they rode home through the streets of Jasper. "Remember he has trouble with the English language."

"Maybe, but it doesn't sound good no matter how you slice it Jack," the motorcycle replied. "What could he have meant?"

"Maybe just that there are other ways he can help out Earth than fighting the cons," Jack suggested. "Or that one more warrior just wouldn't do that much good in the long run."

"I don't want to talk about Nitor anymore," Arcee said curtly.

They had dropped the two younger children off at their respective houses and she had been looking forward to some time alone with her partner.

"Okay," the human readily agreed. "Want to work on the bike again tomorrow?"


	11. Silent Attack

**Knight in Borrowed Armor 11**

**Silent Attack**

**A Transformers Prime Fanfiction**

Ratchet was beginning to rethink his opinion of Nitor. In the past few days the mech had made himself indispensable around the base. In between long training sessions and extensive program downloads the white mech willingly did whatever menial tasks needed to be done. His movements were graceful enough that the old medic had no reservations about leaving even the most delicate of his equipment in his care. The warrior had also shown a budding knack for repairing damaged equipment. By shifting most of the mundane repairs to his new helper Ratchet found himself with far more free time to spend in his less urgent tasks such as developing the synthetic energon and researching human medicine.

Both Raf and Miko quickly bonded with the newcomer. Nitor would tell Raf stories of ancient Britannica while they worked on some project. Miko watched in fascination as he honed his fighting skills with the Autobots. In turn the white mech adored the children. He never seemed as happy as he was when one or the other was perched on his broad shoulders.

Once Optimus was satisfied Nitor was ready the white sedan began staying with the Darbys; serving in place of June's car. Arcee found it awkward at first. Even if he no longer resembled Cliffjumper it felt like there was an intruder in the family. It was a surprise to her as much as anyone how possessive she'd become over 'her' garage. But she found herself warming to the quiet mech. Civil greetings soon turned to long talks during the quiet moonlit nights. There was something inherently healing in the strange being's presence. Every night after work June would come out of the house with rags and warm water. She and Jack would spend half an hour washing down the two bots; talking and laughing the entire time.

Optimus quietly noted the improvement in his soldiers' moral and felt his own spirits lifted. Bulkhead and Bumblebee had essentially accepted the new mech without reservations from the start, but even the perennial cheerful Bee seemed more relaxed in the mech's presence. The Prime quietly watched his team and found himself almost sorry that Nitor's training was progressing so swiftly; bringing the day he planned to leave ever closer.

OOO

June Darby was not a superstitious woman. Years before she had refused to play the usual games girls did involving Ouija boards and their ilk seeing it as a massive waste of time. But a dark moonless night on the open desert with the coyotes howling and wind blowing can sometimes make even the most hardened cynic see shadows move when they shouldn't. She shivered and blamed the cold as she pulled her jacket tightly around her shoulders.

Optimus had brought Nitor out behind the base for practice tracing energon signatures. Bumblebee and Arcee were hidden in the branching canyons. The white mech wouldn't have an easy time finding them. The leader of the Autobots sent the warrior off and strolled over to where June was waiting.

He observed that the woman's heart rate was elevated and her muscle structure was experiencing small sustained spasms. Shivering; the Cybertronian identified the behavior, usually indicative of exposure to excessive cold. He was somewhat surprised. Mrs. Darby was usually prepared for such minor inconveniences as local weather. However the red and blue mech simply transformed when he reached her side and opened a door.

"Mrs. Darby the temperature appears to be dropping. Would you prefer to observe the rest of the training session from my cab?" He asked politely.

June gave a quick longing look at the brightly lit interior of the Autobot; warm, comforting, protected. She was about to accept but some innate stubborn streak stopped her. For anyone else she would have simply offered an excuse, but even in his alt mode she could feel the Prime's optics looking into her. Somehow she couldn't lie to Optimus.

"It's not the cold," she ruefully admitted. "I'm just a little jumpy."

"I see," the Prime said thoughtfully. Those same symptoms indicated fear as well as cold. "I can assure you there is no need for concern. If there were Decepticons in the area Ratchet would have detected them immediately."

"Yes, I sure he would have," June smiled up at him. "This is just human nerves; some combination of an overactive imagination, vestigial instincts, and lack of sleep working me up. Thank you for the offer but I'll just stay out here and face my irrational fears like a grownup."

Optimus nodded. He had observed many times soldiers on the battle field working thus to overcome their weaknesses. However he proceeded to perform a through scan of the immediate area. Mrs. Darby was not a naturally skittish individual. He trusted her judgment. The situation did not warrant the fear she was still displaying despite her attempts to hide it. The warrior thought over what she had said; vestigial instincts. He had little faith in such a concept. In all his time and experience with many species he had yet to find a truly useless instinct.

*Optimus to all Autobots,* he called out over the comm. *Continue with you assigned task but please perform security scans of the surrounding area. Nitor, if you will as well.*

*Roger that Optimus,* Arcee responded.

*Scanning now,* Bumblebee said.

Nitor simply clicked the com twice to reply. The game was still on, he was still the hunter.

*What exactly are we looking for?* Ratchet queried from within the base.

*I'm not certain,* the Prime replied. *Some threat native to this world most likely; a predator capable of slaying a human or a dangerous weather pattern.*

*That's pretty vague search criteria,* Ratchet pointed out dryly.

*Something is disturbing Mrs. Darby,* Optimus explained, "but she is unable to determine the exact cause.*

*In that case I would suggest focusing on potential predators; animal or human,* Nitor offered. *A woman of my Lady's temperament is far more likely to respond to that than a meteorological issue.*

The Autobots acknowledged this and went about the original drill with slightly heightened senses. Seconds ticked by and then minuets as the game progressed and nothing appeared. Nevertheless the Prime was disturbed to note that Mrs. Darby's agitation was only increasing. She was visibly attempting to calm herself.

Despite his constant scanning it was pure chance that he was looking directly at the human and was close enough to intervene when it happened. Approximately five yards in front of June there were a series of raised rapidly raised dust clouds, the kind made by a quadruped predator about to spring. The Prime had seen this kind of thing before; usually it meant a cloaked turbofox about to attack. All this flashed through his processor faster than even a Cybertronian mind could follow. He lunged in front of June in the vector the predator would be most likely to take, sending out a distress signal as he did. Before his peds even found firm ground there was a sudden tearing pain across the sensitive joints where his legs met his torso. Optimus slashed down with his blade and felt a slight resistance, as if the atmosphere was slightly thicker where the thing should have been. There was an angry hiss, then nothing.

Arcee and Bulkhead signaled that they were inbound to his position without question. But they were far out into the intricate canyon system and would take several minutes to return.

*Optimus! What is happening?* Ratchet demanded.

*An invisible enemy is attacking Mrs. Darby,* the Prime replied shortly.

His optics rapidly searched the ground around the human for any further traces of raised dust. But the area was strewn with rocks of all shapes and sizes. If the creature was at all cunning it could avoid another such mistake. The leader of the Autobots began to cycle through every light and sound spectrum in his visual range.

"Optimus!" June suddenly called out in horror.

The Prime swung around to look at her. But instead of an attacker she was staring at his legs.

"You're bleeding! I mean leaking energon. What's going on?" the woman asked, flustered.

"There is an attacker nearby," Optimus replied never stopping his search. "It appears to be currently out of my range of perception and may be close."

"What do I need to do?" June asked calmly.

"Stand there," the Prime indicated the center of a large patch of loose soil. In that location he might have a chance to respond to any attack. The Autobot circled her as she moved. Scanning in every direction but never taking his optics off the fragile human. Glowing blue energon was sliding down his legs to drip on the ground.

The woman turned away from the sight and walked quickly towards the spot he'd indicated. Halfway there she felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Suddenly a weight struck her shoulders, knocking her to the ground and pain ripped across her back. Some instinct mad her throw her arms around the back of her neck just before a set of jaws snapped shut. There wasn't even time to scream.

*You're energon blade!*

Optimus heard and understood Nitor's urgent communication. The Autobot triggered the glowing sword and sliced through the air over June's prone and bleeding form. This time there was definite resistance from something. A horrific screech filled the air around the Prime. The woman's struggling ceased and she began trying to get up as if some weight had released her. Optimus reached down and scooped her up tenderly with one hand and held the glowing blade in front of her like a shield. Her red blood dripped through his fingers.

"Don't," she hissed through clenched teeth. "No groundbridge!"

The leader of the Autobots murmured a reassurance. He understood the woman's meaning perfectly. With the invisible creature still possibly near, opening a bridge straight to the base's interior would only expose the others still at base to attack. Jack would be sitting in the human's area bent over his textbooks.

"No groundbridge," the Prime agreed. "Yet."

She was still bleeding.

A howl of rage suddenly split the night. Optimus spun around but couldn't get a clear fix on the sound. He spotted Nitor charging across the Nevada landscape. The white mech's attention was focused on a spot several yards from the injured Prime. Optimus turned his attention in that direction. There was a faint disturbance there. It might have just been a layer of warm air hovering over a sun warmed boulder. Nitor transformed his hands and fired several times at the spot. Optimus saw the rapid recoil motion of the shots with no visible discharge. There was a scattering of golden light where each blast struck true on, something.

The Prime focused all his sensors on the spot. He could detect air currents swirling around the creature. The ambient temperature appeared to be several degrees cooler in the area as well. Optimus trained his charged cannon on the area just in case Nitor needed assistance. The white mech leapt up into the air and came down swinging his fists. His jump was interrupted about two yards off the ground; not as if he'd landed on something solid but rather had sunk into something viscous. Nitor began to attack the invisible creature with his fists. The night air was soon filled with screams of rage and pain. The warrior was clearly in control of the situation.

Optimus felt his mind begin to fog over. He shook his helm and made certain his grip on Mrs. Darby was secure. The woman was clearly in pain but she seemed to be ignoring it while she applied self first aid. She had torn the lining out of her jacket and bound most of the deep cuts. The Prime carefully extended an articulator and tied the last several strips around her back where she wasn't able to reach.

"What about you?" she asked when he was finished. "That thing cut up your joints pretty bad."

"I am not leaking energon fast enough for it to be a problem," he assured her. "I will be fine until Ratchet can repair the damage."

Arcee and loped up behind him and surveyed the situation quickly.

"Is there any way I can help?" she asked.

"The tale-tales for this creature appear to be a drop in the ambient temperature," Optimus said. "Other than that there appears to be no way to identify it."

"Roger that," the blue femme immediately began scanning the local thermoclines. Once she filtered out the ambient temperature differences there was a vague track.

"It came from the east," she said, "wandering a lot, like it was searching for something. A quadruped, with about a four yard stride. Primus," she let out softly.

"What is it?" Optimus asked not taking his eyes of the battle. From what he could tell of Nitor's position he had the thing in a headlock of some sort.

"It climbed all over you. Didn't you feel it?" Arcee asked in horror.

"No, I felt nothing," he replied grimly.

The ground shook as Bulkhead approached at a dead run.

"What gives bossbot?" he asked.

Suddenly Nitor heaved his arms up in a powerful wrenching motion and staggered back. The white mech's body was covered in scratches. He flexed his shoulders and looked up at Optimus grimly.

"It is no longer a threat and there will be no others for some time. It is safe to return to base," the white mech said.

*Ratchet groundbridge now,* the Prime ordered.

The green portal appeared instantly and the bots strode through it.

"Mom! How badly are you hurt?" Jack demanded as they stepped into the silo.

"Pretty bad," the nurse admitted truthfully, "I need to get to the hospital quickly."

"I don't think so," said Ratchet with a frown as he gently took the human from Optimus's hands. "I am quite capable of tending to your needs here."

"No Doctor," June looked the red and white mech firmly in the optics, "you will not; for three reasons. One you need to tend to Optimus and Nitor, something no one else is capable of. Two, I will no doubt need blood transfusions, something you can't provide. Three I really don't want to have to explain who patched me up to my fellow nurses."

At the end of this speech the woman sagged down into the medibot's hands. He saw the red stain slowly spreading across his palm. His shoulders tightened as he acknowledged the human's logic.

"Bulkhead!" he roared out. "Take Nurse Darby and Jack to the hospital immediately. Jack call ahead."

The medic gently placed the woman in Bulkhead's cab and gruffly turned to tend to the Prime. Jack jumped in beside her and Arcee triggered the groundbridge. Bulkhead gently rolled through the vortex. Nitor stared after them.

Though extensive the damage from the individual wounds to the Prime was minor; shallow lacerations consistent with the rest of the scant information they had on the creature that attacked them. Nitor had offered to describe it in detail but was so woozy on his feet Ratchet ordered him to rest quietly after determining that the mystery creature didn't possess poison claws. It was somewhat difficult to stop the leaking fluids. The claws were clearly designed to do as much damage as possible and had left thin but ragged scars. The medic however had far too much experience with such wounds and before long released Optimus from the medibay to rest.

Nitor's injuries were far less severe; minor scratches to his mesh and joints. His system however showed the same levels of energy depletion from the last time he'd fired his guns. Ratchet commented on this.

"They are very impractical. I would like an energy blade now," Nitor responded.

"Yes I suppose that would be best. Whatever source of energy you use simply isn't capable of recharging fast enough. Perhaps if you could increase your draw on the source," Ratchet suggested.

"That is not an option," Nitor said in a low, harsh tone.

Ratchet shuttered his optics rapidly. He had never heard that level of intensity from the white mech.

"Very well," the medic replied. "I'll get on reformatting you a blade and shield first thing tomorrow."

"No," Nitor said catching the Autobot's shoulder in one hand. "I want it now."

Ratchet was about to protest, but thought over his other options. Mainly they involved spending the night worrying about June, unable to help her. Jack had called in that she was in surgery still.

"Let's get started," the medibot said briskly.

OOO

The next morning Jack rolled into the base looking about as bad as Ratchet had ever seen him. There were dark circles under his eyes and his face was puffy from lack of sleep. The young man staggered as he climbed off of Arcee.

"Easy there partner," the femme said softly, reaching out a hand to steady him.

Jack smiled at her reassuringly.

"Well how is your mother?" The medic demanded.

Jack looked up at him and blinked sleepily.

"She's stable and in no serious danger," the human said fighting a yawn. "The surgeon says we still have to watch out for infections and she will need to take it easy for several weeks but the cuts didn't sever anything vital. Miko is with her now and Bulk is watching from the parking lot."

"I am glad to hear that," Ratchet felt some of the tension in his system dissipate. "Nitor will be too."

"Where is he?" Jack asked glancing around.

"In the lab. I'll go get him," the red and white mech said.

"He's probably hiding from Ratchet," Arcee murmured softly to Jack.

Jack looked up at her curiously.

"Every time Ratch would start to get too wound up over June Nitor came up with something for him to do. He had the Doc check every weld on his frame, reformat his guns into a sword and shield combination and detail a red dragon curling up one arm," she explained.

"A dragon?" Jack said surprised. "Isn't that a little ostentatious for Nitor?"

"Hey it kept the old mech from worrying, I'm pretty sure that was the point. But I suspect Nitor has gotten a little jumpy from all the attention," she replied. "I haven't seen him for a couple of hours."

Bumblebee whistled inquisitively from where he was monitoring the main console.

"Raf is at home helping his mom cook up about a month's worth of food," Jack answered guessing what was on the mech's mind. "When he told his mom what had happened and that he wanted to help she decided that I needed to eat right while my mom is recovering. I'm going to meet them later at my place to put it all in the freezer."

"Bumblebee! Do you know where Nitor is?" Ratchet called out from the lab.

The yellow scout chirped a negative.

"That's odd, he's not answering his comm.," the medic frowned.

"Perhaps he went out to examine the site of the attack," Optimus suggested as he came into the silo.

Ratchet strode up to the main console and unceremoniously shouldered Bumblebee out of the way.

"No," he said, "Except for Arcee leaving and returning neither the groundbridge nor the outer door has been activated. He must still be somewhere within the base."

"He's probably back in storage scrubbing the pipes until they shine," Arcee said with a smile. "Come on Jack, lets go find him."

Optimus quietly watched the two walk back into the base chatting with each other.

"Optimus, what's wrong?" Ratchet asked heavily. "I know that look."

"I fear they will not find our friend," Optimus said.

Ratchet opened his mouth to ask why but closed it again when he saw the sadness in his leader's optics. Optimus turned to the console and began sifting carefully through the archived computer files.

"What are you looking for?" the medic asked.

"I will know when I find it," the Prime replied.

After awhile the searchers came back clearly concerned.

"He's not anywhere in the base," Arcee said.

"Yeah, and I never realized how many places there were for a bot to hide in this old place," Jack offered shaking his head. "I think we searched everywhere."

They fell silent when they realized that neither of the older bots was responding. Bumblebee chirped a question and Optimus indicated the main screen.

"I found this in the main drive," the Prime said as he opened a file.

An image of Nitor filled the screen. Jack saw the dragon on his arm just as Arcee had said; no two dragons he realized. The paint had been skillfully applied so that it depicted a red dragon and a white dragon entwined in battle. The mech seemed to be looking straight into their eyes.

"My friends," he said, "it is past time for me to depart. The time I have spent with you will always be precious to me and I pray to the creator that you will always find the strength to continue on your path. But here we part ways. The creature which harmed Optimus Prime and the Lady Darby last night was hunting me. It scented my energy on her and was curious. That is why it didn't immediately kill her," the Autobots could hear pain in his voice. "I have compiled a data file on the beast but it will do you little service. It contains everything I know and can express in English. But let me assure you it will not attack again, while that kind cannot be killed, I did end its threat to you. Others will however find me, and while there is little threat to myself you all would be in grave danger were I to remain with you," here the white mech paused.

"I would also like to apologize for any contention my presence has caused between the humans and the Autobots." He went on. "It is not out of a desire to deceive you that they have hidden so much but rather the fulfillment of an older oath of loyalty than the one they share with you. "

"Optimus Prime," his optics seemed to bore through the screen, "it was truly an honor to know you. More so than anyone it has been my delight to meet, you have the heart of a true servant. Until we meet again."

There was dead silence in the base as the Autobots absorbed this. Finally Ratchet let out a huff in indignation.

"Servant?" He snapped, "Optimus is the greatest leader I've ever seen!"

"I think," Jack said softly, "that Nitor would view those as one and the same."

"Indeed," Optimus smiled down at the human, "I count it a great compliment."

"This is why he had me do all those modifications last night," Ratchet growled. "He needed to be self sufficient. And how did he leave without triggering any of the systems?" Ratchet demanded searching the security records furiously.

Optimus smiled at his old friend. They would each mourn in their own way. Bumblebee was sadly relaying the news to Bulkhead. The Prime's optics flicked down to Jack. The human was staring out the main base door after the retreating figure of Arcee. The leader of the Autobots inclined his helm after her. Jack nodded and trotted after her. Optimus sent Primus a silent prayer of thanks, not for the first time, for the young human's presence.

OOO

A plain white sedan with odd red striping pulled up to a small stone cottage in Yorkshire. Three children were playing happily in the yard. The oldest looked intently at the driver-less car and ran inside. A dark skinned woman came out on the arm of a graying man of perhaps fifty.

"So this is him?" the man asked his wife.

"Yes," she replied leaning into him.

The children were climbing all over the car laughing and joking. One finally came to rest on the hood and tilted her head to one side.

"You don't want to be here," she said sadly.

The rest of the children paused and looked at the car curiously. Their sister continued.

"You have friends and a family to take care of already." she asked. "Why aren't you with them?"

The woman walked over and scooped up her daughter lovingly.

"His other family isn't protected from the others like we are," she explained to the girl. "Some of them couldn't even see a pooka if it was standing there kicking them, and they can't chase off the scary ones."

"Oh," the little girl mulled this over. "So he gets to stay with us instead."

"Yes dear," she replied, "for the time being."

There was a happy cheer from the assembled children and they proceeded to thoroughly explore their new house-guest.

OOO

Mrs. Darby winced slightly as Jack and a nurse helped her out of the green SUV.

"Easy there June," Sandy said with a smile. "There's no need to rush. You're home now."

Jack ran ahead to open the door as the two women walked up the driveway.

"I still can't get over it," June's coworker said shaking her head, "attacked by a cougar in this day and age. I'm just glad the feds managed to kill it before it got anyone else."

The ward nurse helped June into the house and lingered for a cup of coffee. As soon as she left Jack gently assisted his mother back to the garage. A green portal opened and they walked through it.

"Nurse Darby!" Ratchet called out eagerly. "Come along now we have much to do." The red and white mech tenderly scooped up the woman and carried her into his lab.

Jack felt a tiny stab of jealously but resolutely pushed it down before heading up to play with the others. The base was slowly returning to normal. But Nitor's departure left a distinct void in the silo. It hurt the most that they had no idea where he was or when he'd return. Jack paused a moment at the top of the stairs and looked out over the team. He sent up a silent prayer that they would never have to experience that kind of loss again.


End file.
